


From Ruins

by fowo, HamsterMasterSamster



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: AU, Episode: s03e21 Same As It Never Was, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, RP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowo/pseuds/fowo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamsterMasterSamster/pseuds/HamsterMasterSamster
Summary: In the aftermath of a brutal Foot raid, Raphael and his niece seek out the survivors of April's broken resistance and face the intimidating prospect of starting all over again - in more ways than one.Set in the SAINW-verse, a RP featuring Shadow Jones as April and Casey's biological daughter.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! We've been writing this RP for a while just for ourselves, and thought we'd try and post it, see what happens. To keep the pressure off, we're posting it as-is, no edits, no beta. Read at your own risk.
> 
> But at least there's art from both of us! Enjoy.
> 
> Hamster is Raphael, fowo is Shadow.

She hadn’t heard any signs of fighting since yesterday.

  
Shadow was well aware that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t looking for them anymore, but she took it to be a good sign. Maybe the old villainous misconception of “oh, look at all this blood; it probably means the turtle is dead even though there’s no body but we won’t go looking for him” still worked. It would be a damn good time for a little good luck.

She wasn’t going to test it, though. Already she was torn between hurrying back and staying out to scout -- he would be testy over her lack of surveillance if she came back early, but the longer she stayed out, the more she grew afraid he’d try something. Like leaving. Oh, she’d told him to stay put and put pressure on the wound but not even her mother could get the dumb old reptile to do what she told him, so Shadow had little faith that he would actually do what she (“kiddo”) told him to.

And if he left now -- wounded like he was -- after the loss they’d suffered... They still didn’t know how the fight had gone for the rest of them; what about Mom, what about Mike? And Leo? If he left now… 

What would she do?

*

The anxiety and fear to find their little hideout empty and him missing drove her back to it. It wasn’t much; Raphael had found it even while they had been on the run and him badly wounded. 

Shit, maybe he wasn’t totally wrong about the “kiddo” part; she had been panicking about just about everything; his injury, the Foot coming after them, what had happened to Mom -- and he’d grabbed her and shook her and told her to get a grip, they needed to get away. It had helped. His hand on her neck as he forced her to look at him had been warm and reassuring and familiar. She hadn’t seen him in so long before that one mission, and had hardly a moment to even talk to him, and everything went sideways before she could even tell him she’d missed him.

Raph had forced them to run for as long as possible before he finally gave in to her begging about stopping. They’d found shelter in a decrepit old supermarket of sorts; empty of anything but old shelves and rubble. Nobody had been in here in years; it had probably closed down after Shredder’s takeover, looted immediately after and then left to decay. The lock to the employee area still worked, though. 

For now it was as best as they could do.

Shadow was bad at stealth, compared to a ninja turtle (which was an unfair comparison; nobody lived up to Leo’s expectations) but she tried very hard not to make any noise as she hurried through the deserted ailes. He probably heard (or felt) her approach anyway.

\---

He might have promised not to move, but Raphael had every intention of staying alert. When Shadow left to scout the perimeter of the building, he kept a sai gripped in one hand and his good eye narrowed at the only door in or out of the derelict employee breakout room. 

That made it doubly annoying when, between one blink and the next, the room had flipped over on its side and the cold kiss of concrete scraped his cheek. He would have growled at the inconvenience, but his voice lodged like tar in his throat. When he tried to drag himself upright again, his muscles dragged with a lethargy that told him he’d been lying like that for at least a little while. 

The only natural light in the room came from a thin rectangle of glass on the longest wall, near the ceiling, but it was so pitted and clouded that any illumination it allowed became an indiscernible ambient haze. How long had he been out? And on the trail of that thought, a snag of panic in his chest.

The kid. What if it had been hours? What if she’d run into trouble?

That made him move. Or try to. The familiar comfort of his weaponry was a weight in one palm, but when he tried to shift the other . . .

A wad of sticky cloth clung to his fingers.

Right. Forgot about that. That’d be why he promised he wouldn’t move. They could debate the exact terms and conditions of that promise later, though, when he was sure Shadow was safe. 

He didn’t trust this place. They were still too close. Raph would have put a few more miles between them and the columns of thick black smoke that marked the site of the compromised rebel base, but the kid had run him through with one of those looks of hers when he tried to suggest it. Probably a good thing, though he wouldn’t admit it; only in the darkened supermarket had he noticed the heavy edge to his own breathing, the fog of pain and exhaustion impinging on the edges of his vision. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

Careful to keep the makeshift first aid job wedged against his side, Raphael got his feet under him and elbowed his way up the wall. A second to steel himself and he walked, slow and unsteady, toward the door. The pain was distant; a groggy film had crusted over his thoughts. At least it meant he didn’t have to think too hard about what the hell they were gonna do next.

Even as Shadow jammed the key into the rusty keyhole she said, “It’s me, don’t kill me,” and carefully eased the door open only after giving him a moment to not jam that sai into her throat before he even saw who she was. 

When she eased the door open enough to slip inside, she was weirdly relieved and worried at the same time. He was still here, and she was so happy about it she barely knew what to do with that emotion. But one look at his face and the bled-through bandages sobered her up quickly.

“What are you doing up?” she asked. “You need to rest!” She wanted to grab him and make him sit down but kept her hands to herself. Fretting over Raphael was never a good idea. 

Instead, she grabbed the backpack from her back and started digging through it. “Here,” she said, pulling out a bottle of water for him. “Got a couple of these, and some protein bars, and fresh bandages. Figure we can camp here for a night at least.” 

\---

Raphael hadn’t even made it three tired steps before the sounds of someone’s soft approach brought him up short. There was no mistaking the voice that carried a warning through the door, though - a warning that, in spite of it all, made him smirk. Girl could be so dramatic. As if he’d ever hurt her.

. . . Yeah, ‘cause he’d never done  _ that _ before. More ways to hurt a person than to stick the pointy end of your weapon where it wasn’t wanted, right? The feeble smile was gone, a sour look replacing it by the time Shadow slipped inside. She was safe though, and didn’t look hurt when he glanced her up and down. Raph felt some of the tension drain out of his tight shoulders.

“I  _ did  _ rest,” he groused as she rummaged in her backpack. “That was the problem! I, uh . . . lost track o’ time. Felt like you’d been out there too long.” 

Shadow pulled out a water bottle and the sight of it drove a spike of sudden, intense need right through the deepest places of him. He stowed his sai in the safety of his belt and took the offering from her with a rough sigh of deep gratitude.

“Thanks, kid. How’s it lookin’ out there? Any sign of our tail?”

  
  
  


"Not that I could tell," said Shadow, emptying her findings on a cluttered and dusty desk. She was relieved Raph took the bottle of water eagerly; she took it as a good sign that he noticed he was thirsty. "We should be okay for a while, at least for tonight." 

She sank down on a ratty old desk chair that let out a plume of dust as she fell down to the old pleather. Now that she was back and knew he was still here, exhaustion pulled at her heavily. She rubbed her face against the sudden tiredness and tucked some stray hairs behind her ears. She wanted to take her boots off and knew she couldn't. 

"We need to check your arm," she said finally, much as she knew Raph wanted to pretend it was nothing. 

\---

Raph was well-versed in the problem of ‘not enough fingers’, but Shadow pointedly reminded him that his current issue was ‘not enough hands’. He twisted the cap off the water bottle with his teeth and spat it over onto the desk where she’d dumped the rest of the supplies. Heh - even one-eyed and down a litre or so of blood, his aim wasn’t half bad.

“My arm ain’t goin’ nowhere if we ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said, in a typical rough-edged attempt at reassuring her he was fine. “I think it’s done bleedin’ out anyhow.” 

He took a careful swig of the tepid water; his suddenly desperate thirst made him want to guzzle the whole lot in a few loud gulps, but his throat felt like barren rock so he took it slow, moistening the inside of his mouth before swallowing. Besides, who knew how quickly they’d be able to get more? With the supplies they had, he wasn’t even sure Shadow would be able to  _ do  _ much of anything with the mess lurking under their first attempt at makeshift bandages.

Raph glanced over at her, some question about where she’d found this stuff half-formed on his tongue, but it fled at the sight of her slumped over in the dusty chair. Shadow looked completely wrung out, and way too old for her years. 

She wasn’t supposed to look like that. It didn’t sit right with him. 

“ . . . How are you holdin’ up, kid?” he ventured. “You gonna be okay?”

  
  
  


“Um,” said Shadow, blinking a few times as she took mental inventory. Now that she was sitting down, and the door behind them was closed, and the lizard part of her brain had stopped yelling  _ danger danger danger _ at her, she realized how exhausted she was. When they were running, she had tripped over some debris and taken a nasty fall, and her forearm was still bruised and dirty from where she’d caught herself, but the scrapes were already scabbing over, itching unpleasantly. Her ankle was the bigger problem; she’d twisted it and it hurt. It wasn’t bad though, it’d be  _ fine _ . She’d just put it up for a while and rest.

Anything else? She was hungry, but that was a given; who  _ wasn’t _ hungry all the time? She was tired, but that was also nothing to write home about. ( _ What about home? _ ) She was worried, and that was just another one for the pile.

But here, for now, in this moment, they were safe, and Raph was up and talking ( _ and still here _ ) and nursing his dusty water bottle, so she shrugged and gave him a small smile. 

“Could really use a manicure I think,” she said. “Look at this mess.” She held her hands out for him to see, her black nail polish chipped and her nails broken with grime underneath. “Angel would have some choice words about that.”

\---

Shadow took a few seconds to reply, during which Raphael watched her a little worriedly. He wasn’t sure what she’d say, and a part of him started to regret asking. It hadn’t been easy, tearing her away from the base - even if you didn’t count the general chaos of fleeing rebels, the masses of well-armed Foot between them and the exit, and the blood pumping out of his arm after that one nasty ambush went horribly wrong. The only home the girl had ever really known had been crumbling all around them, and he’d seen in her eyes how close she’d come to utter panic at the prospect.

He’d been rough, keeping her focused on survival. Too rough, maybe. But sometimes people did better in hard times when you just left ‘em alone and didn’t pry, and he wasn’t exactly the best at being a shoulder to cry on in the first place. Mike would have been a better choice of uncle for that.

Mike . . .

Her manicure joke caught him completely off guard. Raphael let that doomed train of thought go and snorted his amusement. “Oh, you think that’s bad? Wait ‘til you see the nail I broke on the way here. I just . . . can’t even be seen in  _ public  _ right now.” 

Careful not to spill his water, he grunted as he took a seat back on the floor, next to the desk Shadow had casually occupied. He set the bottle down and idly reached over to cup her scuffed fingers in his own. Her hands were tiny compared to his, the digits dainty and elegant in his big, calloused palm in spite of the scuppered manicure. He couldn’t help but gently brush a thumb over the dark polish on the nails in something akin to fascination.

Kid had always had an obsession with black. Raph didn’t get it, but then he didn’t get a lot of human things. The closest he got was comparing it to his own signature colour, and those of his brothers, but it didn’t seem quite the same. Or maybe it was? Whatever. She liked it, and that was all that really mattered. 

“Angel can chew you out for your bad nailcare routine when we regroup,” he said firmly.

  
  
  
  


Shadow scoffed a little fondly at his initial comment. “Hate to break it to ya, old man, but you ain’t exactly a contender for  _ Sexiest Man Alive _ —” she started saying, but the joke died on her tongue as he sat down on the floor next to her and took her hand in his. 

Mom had always told her she took after her Dad—loud, brash, with a fierce sense of justice. Maybe not always super-smart. Despite this, and especially after losing him, Shadow had taken pride in this. It also meant it had always put her close to Raphael, and she had gotten along well with him all her life, even in the worst of times. They were both blunt and no-nonsense, and both incredibly bad at dealing with their own emotions. 

Faced with his gentleness, Shadow didn’t know what to do. She took a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to draw her hand back to herself, too overwhelmed with everything she was feeling. 

But she had known nothing but war her whole life, and it was generally a bad idea not to take something when it was freely offered.

So she gave his hand a little squeeze and scooted her chair closer to him to slip off it and sink down to the floor next to him. “Yeah,” she agreed, instead of asking if he thought Angel was okay, or if there even was anyone left to regroup with. There was no point. They would lie low for a while, see that Raphael healed, and then circle back to one of the safehouses to pick up the fight. She just gave him a tired little smirk. “I’ll tell her about your broken nail too. Pretty sure she can fix it.”

\---

Raph was waiting for the obvious argument - what if Angel hadn’t made it, what if they couldn’t find her and the others even if they  _ had _ \- but it didn’t come. Instead Shadow just . . . accepted it, and settled down beside him. The close proximity made him clear his throat in belated embarrassment, and he awkwardly withdrew his hand. She wasn’t a baby. He didn’t need to coddle her.

“All pretty things bein’ equal, I think I’d rather she fixed the jacket,” he grimaced, the fingers of his injured arm twitching.

He’d had his hands and sai full of too many Foot, and nothing left to block the stabbing blade coming for his throat except for . . . well. Of course, once he’d kicked the guy into next week, continuing to fight with it buried deep in the meat of his forearm had not been smart either. It had only been a matter of time until some chump decided to grab the hilt and tear it free without much consideration for a clean exit wound.

Or the ruined fabric of his sleeve. Shadow had tightly wound the makeshift bandaging right over the top of it from wrist to elbow, and now cloth and worn brown leather both were caked in sticky, congealed blood. 

Raph tipped his head back against the wall and huffed out a worldweary sigh. “I liked this one. Comfy.”

  
  
  


Shadow clicked her tongue. “I bet it can be fixed,” she said. “When we—when we get back to base.” A sting of fear hit her as she spoke, and she hoped he didn’t notice. “Yeah,” she added, with more confidence. “It’s leather, right? We just have to wash it and grease it and then I can just sew it back together. No need to throw a good fitting jacket out just because of a little snag, especially with  _ your _ measurements.” 

She nudged him playfully with the tip of her boot, even though it was a bit of an understatement and they both knew it. But Shadow didn’t want to dwell on all the bad things that had happened -- and might still happen. 

She gestured for his injured arm and didn’t wait for him to tell her it was nothing or that he didn’t need help, she carefully took him by the wrist and elbow to inspect the poor patch-up job she’d done. “If you don’t want your comfy jacket to be permanently grown  _ in _ , we better take care of this,” she said, already getting out her pocket knife with one hand and the fresh bandages she had looted with the other. She also tossed one of the protein bars into his lap. “Eat,” she said. “Last thing we need is you fainting because you see a little blood.”

\---

“Hey,” Raphael chuckled, swatting away her foot. “Ain’t my fault your puny human wardrobes can’t handle this physique. I guarantee anythin’ that ain’t shell is all  _ muscle _ , kid.” 

He wasn’t looking forward to having his arm messed with. He’d pushed the throbbing pain of it back into the distance of his thoughts, but as soon as Shadow touched his wrist it spiked back to the forefront. He didn’t flinch or pull away though; it was a job that needed doing, and Shadow had that firm ‘don’t-argue-with-me’ look about her that reminded him very strongly of someone else, especially when she tossed the protein bar at him and commanded him to eat.

“Yeah, all right,  _ mom _ ,” he snorted, and a second later the insensitivity of the joke under their current circumstances hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t take the words back, though, could he? That was always the problem with words. As soon as you let ‘em loose they were out there, in the wild, doing all that damage you never meant, and sometimes even if you fumbled through an apology you just kept poking the wound and making everything worse.

Raphael hated words. He hadn’t missed the way Shadow had stumbled over talking about returning home, and yet had put his foot right in it anyway. He awkwardly decided to quit while he was ahead and stop talking, focusing instead on tearing off the wrapper of the protein bar with his teeth.

  
  
  


Shadow’s breath hitched a little, but she shook herself out of it. Wasn’t hard to tell Raph regretted his words by the way he lapsed from a quip into uneasy silence. “Don’t worry,” she said simply as she carefully found the knot that held the haphazard bandages around his arm together and set to untying it. “She’s  _ fine _ .”

That was wishful thinking and she knew it; if Raph and herself had barely escaped there was a high probability that others hadn’t made it, but she also knew that dwelling on fears like these could be a death sentence in war. Right here, right now, all she could do was focus on what was in front of her: and that was her uncle, wounded and still more ashen in the face than she felt truly comfortable with. 

Yeah so he had a special talent for saying the wrong things in the wrong moments. So what. Despite this, Shadow was still, however childish and naive it might have been, so happy to spend time with him at all. In the end, it was because of him that  _ she _ was still here, and she hoped her mother knew that Raphael was with her.

Being with a ninja turtle was usually the safest anyone could be, even though they were always right in the middle of all the shit happening. 

“They’re  _ all _ fine; Mom and Mike and Leo and  _ everyone _ ,” Shadow said, jaw set in defiance against the world. 

\---

Shadow visibly drew that determined armour around herself to shield her vulnerability, and Raphael kicked himself even harder for prodding the wound. Worse, each name she dropped in her defiance made the sick, anxious ache behind his plastron intensify, bursting free of his attempts to suppress it. 

They’d been pretty far from the command centre when the fighting broke out, but April barely ever left the place. Mike was always glued to her side, more so since his surviving brothers had become a tempest he didn’t want to tango with. Leo . . . hell, if Leo had even still been on the base he wouldn’t know. He and Raph had reached a peaceful resolution to their grievances by ensuring they were never in the same damn room as one another. But even so, the thought of his jerkwad sibling going down in that messy fight . . .

Raphael inhaled, exhaled, and took an aggressive bite of the protein bar. It hadn’t been the easiest to make out over the furore of combat in the corridors of the base, but their rebel leader’s tinny coded instructions to specific rebel squadrons had carried over the PSA system.

“Of course they’re fine,” he said, somehow managing to sound annoyed about it. “Your Ma always has plans comin’ out her ass. There ain’t no way she’d get caught with her pants down like that and not have a way out.”

  
  
  


Raph’s gruff humor caught her off-guard and Shadow was startled into a laugh. “Ew, don’t talk about my mother with her pants down, gross,” she said. “I’m happy she’s too damn busy keeping us all alive to consider dating again. Shit, I don’t even wanna think about it.” 

But it was a nice distraction as she carefully peeled the bandage and torn leather remains away from Raphael’s wounded arm. Thankfully it was already healing, but that also meant she had to carefully utilize the tip of her pocket knife and the remains of her fingernails to get to the places where the blood had caked everything together. She knew Raphael was tough but it wasn’t fun work, and she imagined for him even less so. The fact how fast and readily the turtles healed meant the wound had already tried its best to heal even when the circumstances were less than favorable. No matter how carefully Shadow was, she had to open up parts of the nasty gash again, and though Shadow wasn’t queasy, her stomach churned as she was faced with the pink flesh that lay underneath his rough, green scales. 

And because talking mindlessly was better than thinking about this, she said, “I mean, that’s not true. I want her to be happy and sometimes I think she needs someone again who looks after  _ her _ , you know? Mike being there isn’t the same. I want someone to be there for her, y’know, like… like Dad did.”

\---

Raph smirked. Making Shadow laugh under any circumstances always felt pretty good, and under these ones? After stepping on way too many verbal landmines already? It made him feel a little better about sitting still and pretty while he endured her tender ministrations on his bloody arm. 

He took a few peeks at the mess she was untangling out of dull curiosity, but in his (by this point extensive) experience, stuff hurt less if you didn’t look at it. It wasn’t squeamish - it was just practical. So he mostly chewed on the protein bar, occasionally flexing his fingers to see what range the injury left him. 

The last bite stuck in his throat when she mentioned her dad. He swallowed it heavily along with the sudden upsurge of renewed melancholy, but he did his best not to shy away from her wistful eyes.

“ . . . I ain’t exactly an expert on the whole human dating thing, Shadow, but the way I remember it, it was mostly your Ma takin’ care of Jones. That bonehead needed lookin’ after a hell of a lot more than she did.” Raph huffed out a laugh. “But I guess she saw  _ somethin’  _ in him worth stickin’ around for. He did make her happy.”

  
  
  


“He did,” said Shadow softly. And then she didn’t say anything for a while. Her father was a sore topic for both of them, and though her mother always told her not to bury her feelings and let them out, maybe Raph wasn’t the best person to talk to about this, anyway. This, or anything feelings-related, really.

It was fine. She knew he was feeling the same as her, anyway. And they weren’t exactly in the best position to be reminiscing.

She had carefully operated away all of the old bandages and tattered jacket remains. All things considered, the wound could be worse. It was bleeding sluggishly a bit where she had had to tear the fresh scabs away, but it wasn’t something to be overly concerned about. Fresh bandages would already go a long way. Thank fuck for the mutagen in the turtles’ bodies to keep them alive through all the shit life put them through. 

“Okay,” she said, sitting back and wiping blood off her hands on her own fatigues and then grabbed the roll of fresh bandages. “Guess you got really lucky after all. How are you feeling? And give me none of your  _ it’s nothing _ crap, if you pass out on me I can’t carry you and we’ll be stuck here.”

\---

Shadow went quiet, leading Raph to wonder if he’d made another mis-step . . . but her soft silence resonated with him somehow. It didn’t invite further comment in the same way that he didn’t want to make one. A shared discomfort, wallowing in bittersweet memories. He took the hint and kept his beak shut - a little too readily, if anything. Maybe it was cowardly and selfish, but dredging up all the old ghosts and dancing around the possibility of new ones was exhausting and he wasn’t in an immediate hurry to re-engage. 

The crinkle of the empty protein bar wrapper was as loud as an explosion and Raphael winced as he tossed it aside. He swapped it for the water, taking another restrained pull at the lukewarm liquid as Shadow wiped her hands down on her grimy clothes. Her tone brooked little argument.

Raphael finally squinted his one good eye at the arm, now that she’d cleaned it up. It wasn’t a pretty picture, but hey - at least the arm was  _ there _ . More than he could say for some ninja turtles. He began to curl his fingers into his palm but the still-torn muscle didn’t appreciate the effort, firing a spasm of pain as far as his upper arm.

“Not sure it’s ready to hold a sai yet,” he grumbled, well aware that it wasn’t  _ exactly _ an answer to her question. “But it’ll be fine. You made it about as pretty as it’s gonna get, kid. Nice work. Guess that talent for takin’ care of boneheads runs in the family, huh?”

  
  
  


“Ha! I guess so.” She gave him a smile as she carefully began to wrap the fresh bandage around his arm. It was a miracle she had even managed to track one down -- and she wasn’t going to tell Raph she had walked  _ right _ into a gas station to get their little pile of supplies. Paid for it, too. He’d freak out, and maybe rightfully so, but at the same time, Shadow had a  _ little  _ more faith in humanity than him. Which was probably because she had the luxury of  _ being _ one. And even though the Shredder probably knew Casey Jones and April O’Neil had had a kid, she was fairly sure he didn’t care about her as much as her parents and her uncles. She was just one of the many war-bred children that came after.

“Wish we had alcohol or something to disinfect it, just to be sure,” she said as she tied the ends of the bandage into a knot and carefully sat back, letting Raph retract his arm and test its boundaries. “Could drink it, too,” she added with a hint of humor as she went for a water bottle and one of the protein bars. Her hands were shaking as she uncapped the bottle and took a first sip. She was exhausted, and the chemical cocktail keeping her upright was starting to wear off now that she knew he was taken care off. She rubbed at her face roughly, willing the tiredness away. 

\---

Glancing up from examining his freshly bandaged arm, Raphael caught the tremor in Shadow’s hands.

"Hey.” He reached over and touched her arm, his guttural tones about as gentle as they could get. “It ain't booze you need, kid. Get your head down for a couple hours. I'll keep watch. I slept some already, while you were out."

Passed out, actually, and for an indeterminate amount of time, but those were facts she didn’t need to know. He hesitated just a second before patting the space directly beside him.

“C’mon. We’re not goin’ anywhere yet. You’ll feel better for it.”

  
  
  


“Oh, and, what, you’ll just  _ bite _ the Foot when they find us?” Shadow said with a soft snort, waving vaguely at the bandaged arm that, as Raph himself had established, wasn’t going to be holding a sai anytime soon. 

His touch was so soft and careful though, and she was so  _ tired _ that she couldn’t bother pretending she wasn’t happy for the invitation. So she scooted on her butt to lean against the desk with her back, her side against Raph’s. “Now that I think of it, you probably  _ would _ , and that’s kinda terrifying,” she said good-heartedly, stretching her sore legs out. She lazily pawed at the desk until she nudged a protein bar from the surface and into her lap and unwrapped it to take a bite. “Hard to believe Shredder still finds people dumb enough to put up against you. I’m glad if I can avoid you just in sparring and training!”

\---

It wasn’t really fair to Shadow, the way Raph always expected her to reject any invitation to share his personal space. She’d never turned him down, not once . . . but she had every right to. Maybe that was why he was always waiting for the moment that she’d push him away. 

It would happen eventually, wouldn’t it? One day he’d pull just that bit too hard away from his family and everything would tear, and there’d be no fixing it. It was inevitable. Sometimes he even got impatient for it, like something was maliciously hesitating before ripping the band-aid right off him. Better to just . . . get it over with.

Apparently it wasn’t gonna be today, though. She settled next to him to munch on her acquired goodies, the weight of her against him oddly reassuring. 

“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” Raph grinned. “The Shredder never knew when to quit, kid. It’s about the only thing we got in common. Besides, I got one good arm.” He flicked out a sai with one smooth motion of his wrist, careful not to jostle her in the process. “And it’s a ninja rule that you can use anythin’ as a weapon. Teeth count. So don’t worry - I’d bite a horde of Foot before I let ‘em get to ya.”

  
  
  


Shadow chewed slowly, more because it was getting more and more taxing to put effort into the motion than the knowledge that taking it slow was better when you were on limited supplies. “Pretty sure you already did,” she mumbled around the food mush in her mouth. She was certain without him, she wouldn’t have made it out. Her rifle had already been out of ammo, useless in her hands. Unless they magically found bullets for it, all she had left were two knives she had on her. And despite Leo’s rigorous training regiment, she never did get quite as good with them as he. (And maybe that wasn’t possible, but she was determined to at least  _ try _ .)

So that was another thing to worry about, potentially.

Instead, she yawned, and tucked her chin against her chest as she did in a futile attempt to hide it. “You think we can try to get to a safe house tomorrow?” she asked, as if nothing had happened. “I didn’t see any goons when I was out, so maybe they gave up?”

\---

Shadow’s optimism surprised a chuckle out of him. If the Foot were gone, chances were they were busy somewhere else - not good news for their comrades - or they were just . . . waiting their quarry out. But he liked the idea of them just giving up and going home much better.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll go check out the nearest one. But . . . ” Raphael scratched his beak with the tip of his sai, frowning. He didn’t want to throw more bad news into the mix, but he’d never been one for sugar-coating. It was an insult to the listener. “. . . We gotta be careful. We still don’t know how the main base got compromised. I know April’s real careful with sharing operational info, but if any of the safehouses got hit too, well . . . maybe they ain’t so safe no more.”

If he’d been running the Foot, he would have quietly taken over the safehouses first, and simply waited for any rebels flushed from the big main base to waltz right into the traps. Raph hated the way his mind worked.

“So we find the place, we sit and watch it a while,” he pressed on. “And if it looks hinky, then . . .” Raph hesitated, his bulk shifting in an uncomfortable fidget. “I have a little bolthole east of here. Nothin’ fancy, but there are a few emergency supplies there, and nobody knows about it but me. It’s one of the places I go. When I, uh . . . head out solo, sometimes.”

  
  
  


“Solo,” Shadow repeated with a little laugh that maybe should have been bitter, but really wasn’t. “ _ Sometimes _ ? Unca Raph,” she scolded, tacking on the address she’d just as a kid just to show him she wasn’t upset. “You never leave  _ not _ solo. Even me being here is an accident, c’mon.”

She nudged him with her elbow, poking it against a sharp edge of his plastron. If it weren’t for two leather jackets between them, it probably would have hurt, and wasn’t that just the story of Shadow’s life? Reaching out and inviting him in and getting hurt in the progress. Felt like all her life he’d left way more than he’d actually come back.

The dark thoughts loomed over her like a thunderstorm brewing, but Shadow resolutely decided not to dwell on those thoughts. He was here now, involuntarily as it was, and Shadow was determined to be happy about it, no matter how bad the circumstances were. 

In the darkness and fog of her memories of being a small child, way,  _ way  _ before Dad died, there was one that stood out, one that she carefully recalled at in the middle of the night when she was alone and cold: This feeling of being safe and warm, resting on a hard, but living surface. Deep breaths lulling her to sleep, and two arms wrapped carefully around her. The safest place on earth.

She was a bit too big now to curl up and sleep on his plastron. She wasn’t even sure if he would let her even if she asked.

Resolutely, she took a long last drag of her water and capped the bottle. “Well, worrying will solve nothing,” she said resolutely as she grabbed her backpack. She bunched it up and pushed it right against his thigh. “If everything’s gone to shit, at least it’ll stay that way until tomorrow.” And with that, she laid down, using the backpack as a pillow, and nudging herself close enough to his side to feel his warmth.

\---

When she described their team-up as an ‘accident’, it  _ stung _ , no two ways about it. Raphael felt frustration and a little hot anger burgeon up in his chest. What could he say to that?  _ Sorry _ ? And on the back of that  _ sorry _ would be an expectation that he  _ change _ . What were sorries good for, otherwise?

But things wouldn’t change, and Raphael wasn’t about to lie to her. He’d gone from being a founding member of April’s resistance cell to an occasional problematic participant, and it wasn’t likely to get any better. He could just about tolerate the occasional mission with Mike, although there would always be goddamn  _ words _ afterwards, his little brother trying to force together the edges of the open wounds between them until Raph snapped and ripped them even further apart. Sorties with Leo were out of the question. And if April ever sent him out  _ sans _ any brother at all, well . . . she worried. He knew she worried. Not for his competence but his recklessness, knowing nothing but another mutant turtle could stop him if he decided to do something truly stupid.

One day he was gonna leave and not come back. He was working his way towards it. Everyone knew it. Shadow knew it. He tried desperately to keep the animosity between himself and his brothers out of her line of sight, but she was too smart and she picked up on the fumes.

It killed him that she thought she was part of it, though. It had nothing to do with her. He never intended to leave  _ her _ , he just . . . he couldn’t . . . the logistics didn’t -

Damn it, she was just a kid. Maybe she didn’t understand his reasons but there  _ were _ reasons. Reasons he didn’t think he’d ever be able to explain if he tried - so, of course, he didn’t.

Raph let the breath he’d been holding out through clenched teeth. Shadow had curled up at the side of him and he lowered his good hand to give her shoulder a rough squeeze. Then he let it rest there, lightly enough that she could shuck it off if she wanted.

  
  
  


She didn’t. She just sighed softly, nuzzled her face against the backpack to get comfortable and fell asleep right then and there. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after Raph and Shadow in the last chapter, we now turn to some of the other rebels...
> 
> As always, we're posting this as-is, so formatting may be a bit wonky. enjoy anyway!
> 
> Hamster as April, fowo as Mikey

Sometimes, Michelangelo thought when there was time for idle thoughts that led nowhere, he was glad none of them had ever had kids of their own. Besides all the problems that even came with the circumstances of reproduction when you were a mutant ninja turtle, it was  _ impossible  _ to keep this family safe, and Mikey was sure the rotten turtle luck would have extended to possible offspring.

The second he’d had time to realize (and panic over) that Raph had taken a hit that drew blood, he’d also realized that Leo on his right flank had gone missing with no trace of where he’d vanished to. It was impossible to race after  _ both _ his idiot brothers. Leo kept insisting the number four was bad luck, but the way Mike saw it, three was  _ much _ worse. It was a bit like missing a limb -- right? Right? 

But Raph wasn’t here to whack him for shitty jokes. When was the last time he’d bothered, anyway?

But the frantic humor was probably all that kept him from freezing up in terror as he,  _ yet again _ , wondered if he was the last of his kind. As it were, he had line of sight to April and a pocket of resistance members, all busy with a fighting retreat as the Foot flooded them out of their no-longer-secret base.

And she was family too. 

_ And  _ it was much easier to take care of her because she at least didn’t have that latent death wish as his brothers!

_ And  _ she was his only sister. Mike had always kinda wondered what it would be like to have a baby sister, but that never happened. So April was still the closest he had.

_ And  _ she had a plan of what to do next. Of course she did, she always had. 

And wasn’t that a relief, because Mikey really didn’t. But April yelled her orders at her, and Mikey saluted with the one hand that held his last ‘chuck, said “Yessir!” and kept her back free so she had one less thing to worry about.

As they were running, Mikey did a headcount. He saw Gil and Ahmed and Sarah, James and Takeru, Sophie and Xiao… He saw a lot of faces he was glad to see, but with dread he noticed some more family missing. 

He didn’t bring it up with April. She’d know, anyway. What was there to talk about? Just because he wanted to talk about it didn’t mean it was a good idea. (When was it ever when he opened his mouth?)

That first night, they were still on the run. No breaks and no rest. It was probably a good idea, but Mikey hated it regardless. Part of him wanted to run back into the fray, and look for his lost family, and if it meant his death, so be it.

But he didn’t have that latent death wish his brothers had, so he stuck around. Apart from the fact that ninja turtles were bad luck, they were also excellent fighters. Even with all sorts of physical handicaps! Yo, if it wasn’t for their disabilities, they’d kick the Shredder’s ass---

Someone said his name and startled him bad enough that he almost gave them a load of nunchuck to the face, but he stopped the upwards swing with a flick of his wrist and stopped the momentum with his stump. “Don’t startle me like that, dude!” he said as he finally recognized the face in front of him as Christopher’s. 

“Sorry,” said Christopher, looking a bit sheepish, but mostly tired. “April wants to see you,” he said then, waving a lazy finger in her direction. She’d of course taken the lead of their little group, with Mikey serving as rear guard. 

Mikey looked back over his shoulder and saw nobody. (Raph had always been an excellent rear guard. He was paranoid and tense. Made him very observant at times. Mikey was much better at just hitting things when someone told him to hit them.)

“I’ll take over,” said Christopher, and that helped a little. He had a rifle tucked under his arm. He looked like he knew how to use it too. 

Mikey nodded, but he kept his nunchuck under his arm and didn’t ruck it back into his belt as he jogged up to the forefront of their group and their Rebel Leader.

\---

Wind whistled through every crack in the shell of a building they’d chosen to pause in, and that made it difficult for April to hear the monotonous voice of a Foot comms officer droning through the static in her earbuds. She curled over the hacked radio in her lap, using fingertips bloodied and singed from tangling with the wires of the device to tweak its dials until the sound became a fraction clearer. Then it was back to scribbling down the codes and numbers and coordinates she heard on the dirty jotting pad balanced on her knee.

They changed the codes frequently; there had been several she’d never heard before. But she recognised just enough of them for her mind to start building up a picture of what the Foot had been up to since they’d raided her home.

It wasn’t a  _ good  _ picture.

April was chewing anxiously on the nub of a pencil when Mike approached.

“Sophie -” April ripped out the ear buds and pushed them, the radio and the notebook and pencil into the startled hands of the nearest rebel. “- keep listening. Just write down  _ everything  _ you hear, okay? Don’t worry if you don’t understand it.”

The girl - too pale, too young - was nervous but nodded nonetheless, accepting the equipment without question. April absently patted her hands down on her thighs, turning towards Mike and gesturing with a tilt of her head that they should step aside from the others. 

“We’ve got at least six teams out there hunting our stragglers,” she told him in a low voice. “Three unknown, two Upper East Side and one Lenox Hill. A couple chases reported, but targets lost. One successful strike against a small group in Harlem.” She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “No prisoners taken.”

April couldn’t think about who might have been in that group. Any answer - any member of her resistance - was a knife in the heart, but some would bring her to her knees, and her people needed her upright for the foreseeable future. Her fingers plunged into a thigh pocket, habitually finding the cold metal of the wedding ring she kept there and crushing it into her palm.

  
  
  


“Harlem…” Mikey bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, anxious as he tried to pin the name to the streets of New York in his mind. Fifty years and counting and still bad with directions, yo. Raphael did the map stuff, usually. Leo would’ve, if it wasn’t for, y’know, him going all ancient ninja master with his blindness. “Can’t be Raph. Right? I think he was headed South last time I saw him?” Mikey grimaced a little, corners of his mouth dragging down unhappily. “I know he got hit, so we have probably a, eh, fifty-fifty of him either going full berserk and doing something stupid again, or he withdrew and is hopefully holed up in one of his super secret safe houses he refuses to share.” Mikey rolled his eyes a little. Raph was usually too loud and boisterous to do  _ anything _ in secret, but he could be really, really,  _ really  _ evasive if Leo was involved, and because Raphael didn’t want to ever run into Leo again, he wasn’t going to tell Mike anything because of course Mike would tell Leo.

Speaking of which… “Dunno about Leo,” Mikey admitted. “He was there one second, and then the explosion went off, and then he was gone. He can’t have been hit, he was right there with me, but I look away one second and he ninja-vanished. You think the smoke triggered like, a reflex or something? Like--” He mimicked throwing down a smoke bomb, noise included. “--and he goes, ‘oh shit, gotta go!’ and just like,  _ bails _ .” Mikey lowered his arm a little, chuckling. “And then comes to five blocks away and is really embarrassed and decides he has to leave this family again because his honor is soiled. Man, that would be funny. Which is probably why it didn’t happen, huh.”

\---

April let Michelangelo meander through his thoughts without interruption. He’d talk your head off at the best of times, but right now it sounded like a front for a serious case of nerves. Of course, his mind was on his brothers. When wasn’t it? 

“I don’t know,” she smiled wryly. “Leo  _ is _ all about honour. It could happen.”

With effort, she unclenched her fist, letting the wedding ring settle back into the safety of its deep pocket. April sealed the zipper and sighed in Mike’s general direction.

“Honestly, Raph’s probably better off at one of those secret hideaways of his. It’s not safe to broadcast right now so hopefully the safehouses are all just radio silent, but all our usual channels are d-” April caught herself, paused, and corrected: “Quiet. I guess we’re just gonna have to see how things look when we get there.”

And see who else made it.

No good dwelling on the negative, though. Shit had happened. Shit would continue to happen. They’d lost people. They’d probably lose more people over the coming days while they scrambled to regroup. Wringing her hands wouldn’t change any of it. 

At least they’d got a lot of the non-combatants - kids, older folk and the less able - out through the emergency tunnels with a small escort and blown it closed behind them with the charges installed there for just such a purpose. They were out of her hands now, hopefully en route to a distant sister site in Brooklyn. Whether or not they made it safely was a problem for Future April.

“Wish we’d managed to collect Shadow before we got out,” she breathed - the one worry that refused to be postponed, waylaid or otherwise cast aside. 

  
  
  


April said those words and Mikey really wanted a second arm to nervously wring his fingers. Of course April would be worried, but to actually bring her up -- amidst all the other people April worried about all the time, that meant something.

_ Shadow  _ meant something. 

Mikey did the second best thing he could do with one arm and nervously gave his nunchuck a flip before stashing it away in his belt. He hopped over to April and put the arm around her shoulders, tugging her beside himself. “Hey,” he said. “Shadow’s okay, yo. I…” He paused, worrying his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. He wouldn’t have brought it up because it was… it was just something to hope, it wasn’t  _ facts _ , and April likes facts so much. She was a scientist after all! Just like--

But, what were they without hope, really? Leo would probably say something about morale, and Raph would get all up in his face about it, but…

“Last time I saw her, she was sticking to Raph,” Mikey confided. “She was so excited to see him when he turned up. I don’t get why she tries so hard with him, but you know she does. I know it doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but… You know how Raph is. He must’ve known, he must’ve seen her; he’s so good about that stuff. I’m… I’m sure he made sure she got away. Raph would’ve crawled back on his teeth to get her out if he’d seen her get hurt.”

\---

April wouldn’t have let her worries show in front of anyone but Mike - not even his brothers. Not that she didn’t still trust them with her life and love them with all her heart, but . . . you didn’t lean on something that was broken. 

Mike had taken some damage himself, and continued to take it the longer his brothers dragged out their toxic feud, but he always seemed to draw strength from propping up the morale of the resistance. He was good at it, too. His familiar side-hug gave her a jolt of comfort, something soft and warm in a world that had turned ever colder, ever sharper through the brutal years. She leaned into it, wrapping an arm around his shell and giving him a tight squeeze.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Of course, you’re right. We got out, didn’t we? She’ll be okay, especially if Raph’s with her. He’ll take care of her.” A little laugh shook her. “Or maybe it’ll be the other way around.” 

  
  
  


“Yeah like, I’m not sure what it’s gonna be either,” Mike agreed. The way she reciprocated his hug was invigorating and painful at the same time, and he held her waist tightly with his arm and butted his temple against hers. He was too old to want to be held, but that didn’t make the wish any less real. Sometimes it seemed especially cruel that he’d been robbed of one arm just because it meant he could hold people as well anymore. 

And it also said a lot about him that even though he and his brothers hadn’t been a proper family in a very long time, he still wished, in situations like these, that he’d had his leader to say what to do next, the geek to fret over every little detail, the hothead to crack his knuckles in eager anticipation of a fight. 

He loved April  _ so much  _ and he hated that she wasn’t enough, somehow. He felt greedy and disgusting. 

He squeezed her one last time and then slowly, softly let her go, not without rubbing his palm over her back as he withdrew. “I think this is safe to stay the night, don’tcha think?” he asked, twirling a finger around their surroundings. A few desolate desks and chairs and scattered papers whispered of a past as an office building of some sorts. A few walls were missing. What in the shell Shredder had been doing to ruin  _ office buildings,  _ Mike didn’t understand. He didn’t understand a lot of things, and age hadn’t helped with his scatterbrain, either.

“Want me to, dunno, scout the perimeter or something? I could also help set up camp. Or, uhhh…” He tried to come up with things that were necessary to do in times like these. “We got a lot of kids here and I think they’re pretty scared… I dunno if I can help with that though, I think they think  _ I’m _ pretty scary, too, so…”

\---

“Scary?” April clucked her tongue, her head tilting to one side and a sagely smile on her face. “You’re only scary to your enemies, Mikey. A lot of rebels love you.” Not all, though, it was true. She couldn’t entirely lie to her little brother. Some humans had never gotten over the whole mutant thing, but if they kept their mouths shut then April didn’t start trouble. And if  _ they _ started trouble, well . . . either they fell in line or they got reassigned to some far-off base where their ignorance couldn’t impair the war effort. 

Besides, seeing the turtles in action against the Foot was usually enough to sway their sternest critics. They were simply too  _ useful _ to the resistance, whether you liked them personally or not. Maybe there would be problems afterwards . . . but April had long since stopped worrying about ‘afterwards’. Aside from holding fast to the belief that there would be one, some day, taking down the Shredder was the only target she could afford to focus on.

“I don’t know if I’d call this place ‘safe’, though,” April said, reluctantly biting her lip as she scanned the ruined office. She bent down to grab the edge of a toppled chair, but the thing was so rotten that it crumpled pathetically under its own weight before she had it upright. Probably a good thing - the decayed seat looked like a prop from a horror movie rather than somewhere you’d want to rest your rump.

“Honestly, I wanted to keep moving, to push onto the safehouse before tomorrow, but with those Foot patrols still out there and half of our contingent being pretty fresh rebel meat, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.” A little laugh huffed out of her. “Besides, I’m tired, too. My mind’s good as ever, but my body sure hasn’t forgotten how many birthdays it’s had.” 

*

“Psha, what?” Mikey waved his hand dismissively. “You’re still as good as ever, April. The gray looks good on you. Makes you look distinguished. Not that you weren’t distinguished before,” he added quickly, realizing he was talking himself into a corner again. “Just like,  _ more _ . Y’know? Compare that to how ugly Raph’s become, yikes. I think I’m holding up pretty well, of course; but I was always the prettiest one. Hard to believe we’re related at all. 

“Ah, what I’m trying to say is, I guess, beauty sleep’s important! Especially for you. I mean for everybody! But especially for you. So I think you’ve done enough for today, and you should get some shut-eye, and I’ll grab, uh—” 

Mikey rubbed his chin and thought back to the faces in the crowd they had made their escape with. Lots of them really were too young -- but on the other hand, had never known anything else in their lives. It made Mikey sick to his stomach, thinking a whole new generation was growing up with the same sort of emotional trauma as he and his brothers had. Kids weren’t supposed to  _ endure _ that. Just because they were taught how to handle weapons didn’t mean they  _ should _ . Mikey remembered his own teenage days too well to be okay with any of it.

“Christopher,” he said finally. “And Lynn, I think is her name, and George, and the big one with the earring; what’s his name, was that Allan? And we set up watches and cover the entrances and all, and we’re gonna be alright. And I can do recon and check out the safe house and report back to you by morning.”

\---

April wore a wry little smile through Michelangelo’s enthusiastic flattery. Reflexively, she raised a hand to her silvering hair, giving the bandanna headwrap that kept her unkempt fringe out of her face a quick tweak to tighten it. Angel was always trying to convince her to dye her hair again. It had been a long time. Maybe she’d go for it . . . if they managed to meet up again at all.

“I can’t sleep, not yet,” she sighed. “Those are good picks, though. If you get them started, I’ll round up some guys to take over from them in a few hours. Everyone’s drained, and everyone needs a couple of hours, at least.” 

“But . . . are you sure you’ll be okay, checking out the safe house alone?” She felt a little ridiculous, asking the question. After all, any of the present company would probably only slow the turtle down, be a liability at best. Still, it seemed a risky move, with those ruthless Foot patrols out there, and Mikey probably running on fumes himself by now. “It’s been a long day for all of us, Mike. Don’t push yourself too hard right now, okay?”

*

Michelangelo winked at her. "Push myself too hard?" he chuckled. "Who, me? Do I look like Leo to you? Nah." He waved her off. "Besides! Raph shared his breakfast with me this morning. That's two desserts for Mikey today! I've never been better." 

He hopped back to her side, giving her another one-armed hug, bumping his head against hers. "You already worry about everyone," he said, and if he noticed how heavy emotion crept into his voice, he didn't let it show. "Don't worry about me on top of that. Okay? Get some rest. I'll be back in the morning."

His hand squeezed her side, and be brushed a quick kiss against her temple, and then jumped away from her, waving as he already held his nunchaku again. "Don't worry!" he called even as he rounded the corner. "It gives you wrinkles!" 

\---

Mike’s humorous bravado made April’s heart ache. He didn’t have to hide his weariness and his hurts from her, but when he did, it was always an attempt to make life easier for her. His unending devotion moved her like little else these days; her little brother would do anything for her, and that wasn’t always something to be enjoyed when she was responsible for sending people into warzones. Her needs as commander of a resistance faction got people killed on the daily.

But if she dared mention that, he’d only tell her that they weren’t  _ her _ needs, that it wasn’t  _ her _ war. Frequently, though, April wished her followers weren’t so quick to . . . well, follow her. The weight of that unwanted, inadvertent power was enough to keep her up at night.

She pressed her fingertips lightly to her kissed temple. Her eyes, still a vivacious green beneath the murk of exhaustion, followed the turtle as he danced out with impossible levels of energy. 

“It’s a little late for the wrinkle warning,” she murmured, with a wry smile she didn’t entirely feel.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what's Leo up to...? 
> 
> This one's a little shorter and only written by fowo. Enjoy!

Leo had had a bad feeling when he got up that morning, and had learned over the past years that more often than not, a feeling of a premonition was something to take seriously. So the moment he sensed her come into the mess hall, he took April by the elbow and confided in her. She listened to him seriously and told him she would take him into account, but as it were, the plans for today's missions were already set and she would stick to her plan. Changing things last minute was a recipe for disaster.

By the time Leo and April were done talking, Raph had already vanished from the mess hall, saying something about how Michelangelo could have his cup of pudding. Shadow skipped after him like a loyal puppy, looking for attention and validation.

It wasn't a big surprise that among her three uncles, Shadow had picked Raph as a surrogate father figure. After all, amount of fingers notwithstanding, Raphael was the most like her dad had been. It made sense. Leo understood this, rationally. 

But it angered him to white-seething fury that Shadow was still willing to forgive and forget. In the past twenty years, Raphael had more often than not decided to desert her, her mother, all of the rebellion, and worst of all, his only remaining baby brother. 

After their big fight, Leo had decided to step down as leader. He had acted to the best of his abilities, but clearly that wasn't enough. For all their fighting, Raphael's accusations had never before felt so sincere. Leonardo had done everything he could, and still failed. He was a disgrace to his master and his family.

Honor demanded exile. With him gone, Raphael, who for all his 'lone wolf' attitude needed his family close, could  _ stay _ and wouldn't leave. And yet that was  _ exactly _ what he did. Despite Leonardo sacrificing  _ everything _ , Raphael found a way to make it meaningless. Leonardo gained no honor back from his actions, only grief. 

He had given all of himself away, and now was nothing. 

  
  


*

Leo knew where his brothers were just by how they  _ didn't _ make any sound. Even Michelangelo was, once he decided to be, deadly quiet. Raphael was actually louder than him now, due to the jacket he wore. 

April had a distinct sound as well; there was a pebble under the heel of her right boot that made a little tiny  _ tick-tick-tick _ noise every time she put her foot down. 

Shadow, too, was discernible among the cacophony of sounds around him. Her gait was uneven; not that of a trained ninja, but a survivor in a battlefield. Leo worried a little; she sounded too light, like she wasn't eating enough. She took after her mother more than her father, so she was slender by nature and not as muscular, but she was already taller than him and there should be more weight to her. 

Even now, spearheading a big fraction of April's rebellion, he had a pretty good sense of where everyone was, where he was, and what was going on.

Leonardo could tell people apart through the way they walked, their breathing, the sound of their equipment and weapons. Trained ears and a turtle's natural tremor sense and good nose went a long way. And he still had a sixth sense; something vague and spiritual that guided him that he couldn't possibly explain to anyone else. Even his brothers had, most of the time, just kind of nodded along, even though their bond to the astral plane should be stronger than a human's.

It was what saved them.

By nothing short of a miracle, Leo could sense the warhead as it descended upon the building. It was the only reason so many of them had even made it out alive, because he shouted "Bomb!" and everyone had drilled into their bone marrow what to do when that exact scenario happened. 

The Foot must've aimed for the hangar, but they missed it by a few meters. Maybe the winds outside were stronger than anticipated, or maybe there was still some good powers out there looking out for them. 

Even so, the explosion blasted Leo off his feet. He hit the ground hard, and for a while didn't know which way was up. It was the worst that could happen to him. Even without his sight, the world spun around him. The last thing he remembered was Mikey to one side, and Raph further back with Shadow to the other. April in front of him. Now, he wasn't sure anymore where anything was. 

Without sight, it was hard to say if he was wounded. Nothing bled, at least. He was definitely concussed, though; his head pounding where he had hit something hard -- the wall, the floor, rubble, any one of those. There was a cacophony around him -- screaming, shouting. Gunshots. The sounds of many feet running. The wail of pain.

Leo got his hands under himself -- he was on his plastron on the floor. He reached for the sheath on his back: the katana was still there. He got to his knees, then his feet -- everything seemed to be in working order. 

But it was hard to orient himself. People were running around him. It was hard to get his bearings with so much noise. His ears were still ringing, too, efficiently rendering one more sense he had left useless. 

He staggered a few steps. The people running around him streamed towards a direction and he let himself be swept with them for lack of a better idea. 

Once he made contact with a wall, he held on. April's bases weren't exactly up to par as far as accessibility was concerned. There was no braille or anything on the waymarkers. Usually, that didn't bother Leonardo. Now, he had trouble orienting himself, and even coherent thought felt out of his reach. 

Feeling along the wall, he dragged himself forward. He could hear signs of fighting, and thought he needed to join, but when he left the guidance of the upright wall, the world spun sideways again. 

Then someone grabbed his arm. "Leonardo!" said a familiar voice -- ironically, Leonardo thought he remembered the face to match it, but not the name. One of the very first rebels to April's cause. "Did you see the rebel leader? We lost her in the commotion!"

"No," said Leonardo, not because he was being clever, but because not all rebels even  _ realized _ that he was blind, and he wasn't going to remind anyone. 

"What do we do?" asked the poor, terrified man. 

Leonardo, cautious of the closed space they were in, drew his katana. "Follow me," he said.

*

  
  


He got fifty-one people out. It was more than he thought possible, and yet it wasn't enough. He knew there were still plenty left behind. He appointed three individual groups leaders (smaller groups had a bigger chance of getting away and to the safehouses unseen), and turned back into the burning building.

It was a mistake, probably, but he  _ had _ to try. Despite the growing pain in his head and the lead weight his limbs started to be, he had to try. But the only ones left were the ones that didn't make it, and the last of Foot soldiers combing through the building. Even so, every soldier and bot that fell by his blade was worth it. 

No word about April had reached him. There was some gossip, but statements contradicted each other or were simply unlikely. If there was anything to be believed, it was that Michelangelo was with her. That was something to cling to, at least. 

Nothing about his niece. Nothing about his wayward brother.

Leonardo couldn't worry about this right now. By the time he finally abandoned the fallen base, it was late afternoon. He had taken down a few smaller stragglers of Foot soldiers that were after the rebels, but the longer he went on, the more he noticed the strain he was putting on himself. It was only when he finally had a moment to catch his breath that he truly noticed the pain he was in. His concussion had gotten worse, and his right leg was hurting so bad that he knew something was wrong. 

The second he was obscured from plain view and felt somewhat safe, he collapsed to the floor and passed out. 

When he came to, the distant sounds of firefights had stopped. His head was barely better, but his leg was worse. Something was probably sprained, maybe even broken. It made sense; it was the sort of injury the mutagen in his body could relatively easily fix on its own, so with the added adrenaline in his system it wasn't unlikely that he would have kept going without even noticing anything was wrong. All turtles were known to keep going for an unsettling amount of time even when badly wounded. Raph's eye, Mikey's arm, his own face... all instances of their bodies powering through.

Leo took inventory of his situation. He was badly wounded, exhausted, separated from friends and family without a clear idea of where he was. The latter was actually the thing that worried him the least. It was an unsettling status quo when you were blind. Actual spacial awareness was something that had become increasingly rare in Leonardo's life.

After carefully feeling around for a while, Leonardo deduced that he was in an abandoned apartment of some sort. He found remains of furniture; a gutted bed, an old wardrobe, a dresser. Everything was already looted and ransacked, but at least nobody had come looking for him.

Passing out randomly on his own was bad though. He desperately needed to get to safety. April had assigned him safehouse E16 -- the basement and subsequent subway tunnels underneath the old church they had, decades ago, used as a lair occasionally. It shouldn't be too far from where he was, if his sense of direction wasn't totally off. Biggest problem was that he was going to be very slow. No jumping over rooftops with this leg anytime soon.

Among the rubble in the old apartment, Leonardo found what had probably been a broom. The brush part was long broken off, and for a moment, Leonardo held the handle in his hands and was overcome with a heavy wave of melancholy he couldn't immediately place, until he remembered why the feeling of smooth wood in his hands was so familiar.

He scoffed at his own sentimentality, and tore a pillowcase into ribbons to fashion himself a makeshift cast. If he kept to the walls to keep his weight of the injured leg, he could walk just so. It was going to take forever, but it was his only option. 

Leo steeled his resolve, and started walking. 

*

The safehouse was in excellent condition. Nothing indicated that it had been compromised at any point. If it had, it was so cleverly hidden that Leonardo couldn't figure it out without his sight.

What worried him more was that nobody else was here. He should have arrived after everyone else. If all the other groups were slower than him, that wasn't a good sign.

Or maybe they were assigned other safehouses. Better not jump to conclusions. Leonardo sealed the door behind himself, didn't bother with the lights, and went to feel around for the first aid kits and food storage. 

He looked after his leg, took something for his head, found something to drink and eat, and sat, alone in the dark of the cellar of the old church, and hoped somebody else would make it. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What awaits Raph and Shadow in the safehouse?
> 
> One last, chunky update to round out 2020 :3 Enjoy!
> 
> Fowo as Shadow & Leo, Hamster as Raph

The resistance made use of all kinds of places in the ruins of New York, but Raphael found it privately amusing that safehouse . . . E16, was it? Was a goddamn _church._

Or rather, the tunnels and catacombs _under_ the church that conveniently connected up to parts of the disused subway system, but nonetheless, it was the gothic protrusion above ground that he and Shadow had been monitoring for the past couple of hours, from the third storey of a nearby abandoned high-rise.

It was a good spot. The windows hadn’t completely blown out in the office they lurked in, but it was 2-way glass so they could watch without _being_ watched. One of many reasons it made a suitable safehouse area - good vantage points. Raph had been hoping to run into other rebels here, doing the same thing . . . but so far, nothing.

Didn’t mean anything, necessarily. There were numerous safehouses dotted all over the city. April tended to allocate different teams to different ones, to avoid a bumrush on a single location in circumstances just like these. He hadn’t been formally allocated to anything for a while, given his tendency to take his leave whenever he pleased, but Shadow had been directed to this one . . and he had a history with this place in particular. A history he didn’t want to dwell on too much. He’d screwed up a lot of stuff, but hopefully he wouldn’t get kicked out by April on arrival. 

He hoped she was there. They hadn’t caught a whisper of movement below, of enemy or friend, not while they’d been watching. He and Shadow had sat in still, trained silence all that time. 

Couldn’t wait much longer, though. They had a dribble of water left between them, and nothing to eat. The building they were lurking in had been looted to the bone years ago. But if the safehouse held, it would have stockpiled rations, weapons and tech they could plunder, for just such an occasion.

“Okay.” His voice was a dry rasp of a whisper across the silence. He rose like an awakening gargoyle from his crouch - and felt every bone and joint groan as if they were made of stone, too. Hopefully they didn’t creak half as loud as it _felt_ like they did. “You stay put. I’m gonna go check it out. If I ain’t back in half hour . . .”

Then what? Raph thumbed his beak, stifling the sniff that wanted to manifest thanks to all the dust his sudden ascent had disturbed. 

“Head for the old record store on the east end of 50 street. The basement there is one of _my_ places. It should have enough stuff in it to keep you goin’ for a couple days, at least.”

\--

When Raph finally spoke after what felt like _days_ of silent recon, Shadow almost flinched, and then looked up to him in horror as he rose to his feet and told her to… what, _wait?_ For him to come _back?_ _Again?_

“Are you _nuts?”_ she hissed at him, jumping to her own feet. Before he could think to pull a ninja vanish and fade into the shadows, she grabbed the uninjured arm. “We’re going together or we’re not going at all. You’re _hurt._ You’ve barely slept. We’re both low on energy and probably already dehydrated. I’m not gonna let you go solo now, Raph. I’m coming _with.”_

Not that she expected it to really work, because almost everyone was taller than the turtles and they really were used to it, but she put herself on her toes a little bit and squared her shoulders, if only to signal him that she meant it. “How many can you take by yourself with one arm, Raph? Just because you’re _willing_ to go down fighting don’t mean you _should._ Let me be your left flank! That way we have a chance if something’s actually gonna happen.

“Besides, my rifle will only be of use again once we’ve been _inside._ If you ditch me, and you end up ambushed, I’ll be alone and defenseless, and you better believe that if something happens to me on _your_ watch, Mom will _kick_ your ass to next Tuesday even when you’re dead.”

She pushed her jaw forward defiantly, daring him to object. Bringing up her parents was always playing dirty, but since Raph wasn’t always prone to listening to reason, sometimes you had to hit where it hurt. 

\---

Maybe he was off his game, but Raph genuinely didn’t expect such an explosion of resistance from Shadow. His heart almost popped out of his damn plastron when she grabbed his good arm and loomed over him full of fiery wrath. 

You’d think he’d be used to people being mad and disappointed with him. It had become the ever-present toxic ambience of his life, frankly. Raphael saying the wrong thing, hurting people he shouldn’t, screwing things up, letting people down - it was normal, right? Expected of him. It was what he did. Still, the girl was _mad,_ and this time he hadn’t even been _trying._ He stared at her in astonishment with one wide eye, and only let his gaze slink away to the side when she brought April into her barrage of threats. 

“You fight dirtier than your dad, kid, and that’s saying somethin’,” he grumbled, though not without a modicum of grudging respect. “But for the record, April kickin’ my ass ‘cause you got hurt is _exactly_ what I’m tryin’ to avoid!”

He gently tugged his arm free, breathing heavily through his nose and glaring at some arbitrary chunk of debris on the floor. Maybe there was logic in Shadow’s argument, but there was logic in _his,_ too. Even unarmed, she was clever and stealthy and might be able to make it to his little bolthole alone, but he could walk her right into an ambush if he took her with him. What if he just wasn’t enough to protect her? What if he failed her, just like he’d failed Master Splinter and Don and Casey? What if he had to watch her die? 

. . . Heh. Maybe she was right. Had he really decided to leave her behind for her own good, or was he just trying to protect himself from his own special brand of failure?

“Fine,” he all but barked. “But if this goes belly-up, _your_ ghost can be the one to explain what happened to your Ma.”

\--

She hadn't expected him to give up so readily. She had mentally prepared herself that he would storm out, away from her, like always, and she would have to run after him, like always. 

His sarcasm startled a laugh out of her, and she let him go when he tugged his arm free. "Thanks," she said. "He'd be happy to hear that." Her hand that wasn't holding him close felt so useless suddenly, and she awkwardly tucked her unkempt bangs behind her ear. "And don't worry about Mom. She's my only parent, I'm her only kid; getting into arguments over my safety is kind of every dinner conversation."

And usually, Uncle Mikey was there to conciliate between them both in equal manner. Couldn't always be easy, Shadow thought with a pang of melancholy. All his family was always fighting. Some of them weren't even on speaking terms anymore. 

Thinking she owed it to him to try to be better, she smiled a little at Raph. "Sorry for snapping," she offered gently. "I guess yesterday just really scared me, and I feel safer with you around."

\---

She tucked her hair behind her ears and Raph looked away, lightly clearing his dry throat. Maybe the girl didn’t realise how young she looked when she did stuff like that, and it felt rude, eyeballing someone’s vulnerability. He gave his wounded arm an awkward rub, the punctured muscle throbbing through his mutagen’s overzealous efforts to heal it faster, and started to turn away for the exit - but her soft ‘sorry’ brought him up shorter than a knife buried hilt-deep in his shell. 

“Shad . . .” Raph grimaced as if her words caused him physical pain. “It was my bad, I didn’t think about - I shouldn’t’ve . . . I was just . . . tryin’ to . . .” God, him and words just didn’t have a mutual accord when it mattered. The dehydration and exhaustion probably didn’t help, either. He pressed his good hand to his empty eye socket, which was inexplicably twinging in sync with his verbal constipation. “ _Look,_ don’t worry about it. But listen - you ain’t _ever_ gotta apologise to me. Not for a single damn thing.” 

There was more, he ought to say more. His beak half-opened in anticipation - but the coward’s half of him resisted the formation of any more stumbling words, clamped his mouth shut and made him shrug instead. “C’mon, Left Flank,” he sighed. “Let’s go see if we got a vacation home or a Foot ambush waitin’ for us.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Raph wasn’t one to readily share his feelings, but the look on his face was enough to clue her in. She would’ve maybe said a few more words, explained herself more, but it was obvious that he neither wanted nor needed her to, so she let it rest. She already got her way.

She grabbed her things and followed quickly after him. “Vacation home sounds _great,”_ she said as they left the office they’d holed up in. “I’d like a TV or something, so I can play all these games Mikey keeps mentioning. And like, a bed. You know, a proper, actual bed with a duvet and all, not just one of the military sleeping cots with sleeping bags. And a tub and just like, an _hour_ to myself.”

\---

Shadow’s little list of luxuries was a welcome change of subject, and generated a warm, wistful rumble in the depths of his chest. He and his brothers had never exactly lived the cosiest, most comfortable lives, but you never realised how much the basics mattered until you didn’t have them anymore.

“Hot shower’d be nice,” he admitted, then stifled a laugh. “A spa even better. With the hot tubs, the steam rooms? Mud soaks and oils and all that stuff? Always wanted to try one o’ those places. ‘Though if you ever tell anyone that, kid, I’ll have to kill ya.”

\--

  
  


Shadow grinned at him. “I’ll ask Angel if you can come to the next girl’s night,” she quipped easily. “She’s absolutely the number one go-to for all your post-apocalyptic DIY beauty recipes. Oh, that would be hilarious: We get through this just fine and then I tell Mom, ‘Hey by the by? I invited Uncle Raph for a spa day,’ and that’s how we both go.”

\---

“Are you kiddin’?” Raph snorted. “Please, your Ma would _jump_ at the chance to drag me into some cute little girly social thing. And what’d I _just_ say about killin’ ya?” He wanted to muss up her hair as punishment, but his wounded limb wasn’t up for hijinks so he butted her lightly in the arm with his shoulder instead. 

“Besides,” he snorted, ”maybe it’ll come as a shock, but I ain’t in it for the ‘beauty’. I just wanna _relax,_ all quiet-like. Can’t do that with a bunch’a women around me makin’ a fuss about what brand mud mask would work best on my skin type, or whatever you ladies do.” He rolled his eyes, issuing a groan. “Mikey would be there, too. No way the ‘pretty one’ would miss out on a girls’ night.” 

\--

"Uncle Mikey can come," Shadow allowed charitably. "He's basically an honorary girl. But if you want _relaxing,_ with him there it's definitely not gonna happen. Not only does he not know how to shut up, I think he would be _super_ awkward around me, Mom and Angel in nothing but towels." She snickered a little. Among her three uncles, Mikey had always been the most juvenile (Raph and Leo were decidedly more "grumpy old man") and that _included_ being a bit awkward around girls like he hadn't matured past fifteen years old. It was fine though, he was a ninja turtle after all, and that meant for a big portion of his life he hadn't talked to any girls, and then for the bigger portion of his life, the only girl in his life has been her mom.

"And don't worry about what kinda mud mask we put on you," Shadow continued cheerfully. "What you _really_ need to worry about is when Angel starts to talk about men. I mean, _wow._ She's an inspiration, lemme tell ya." She chuckled a little, staring down at her chipped nails. She hoped Angel would be alright. And Mom and Mikey. And Leo.

But they would be. Had to. She and Raph would make it to the safehouse, and maybe someone was already there, waiting for them. 

\---

Oblivious to the sudden distant look in Shadow’s eye, Raph groaned and gave a mock-despairing shake of his head. “Can’t be worse than some of the stuff I overhear guys talkin’ about on the base sometimes. You humans and your weird oversharin’ deal, ugh. What’s that phrase you kids use? TMI, or whatever.”

As nice as it was to fantasise about a world that hadn’t gone to shit _and_ still allowed for a turtle to roam the surface and interact with society as he pleased, they were wasting time and needed to get moving. He nudged open the door into the main stairwell of the office block. It was mostly cold concrete, and the echoey shaft would amplify any sound they made like a megaphone, so conversation naturally took a hit. It’d take them all the way back down, though, and from there it was only a hop, skip and a ninja jump to the church.

Raphael drew the one sai he was able to wield and kept it ready in his hand, but fortunately didn’t need to use it. Their descent to ground level was uneventful, despite the risky acoustics, and though he lurked in the lobby another few minutes to survey the streets outside, no Foot scum were waiting to get the jump on them. It was all going a little _too_ well, in fact. Shouldn’t Turtle Luck have kicked in by now, just thirty feet from a place of safety? Maybe it was waiting until they got a toe inside the door.

Or maybe everything was fine and there was a crowd of rebels in there cracking open the emergency booze and having a party. Ha.

Their route took them through the tangled and wildly overgrown cemetery at the back of the church to a basement hatch, rather than through the front door. It was good cover, and Raph was pretty sure God wouldn’t want him in His house anyway. 

The hatch doors were closed and unsecured, but had been for a long time. No real way of knowing if anyone had beat them to it, and there were other ways in, besides. Raph carefully lifted one of the doors and paused again to listen, to squint into the gloom below and let his senses reach for any signs of danger, but he was quicker this time - even with the overgrown fauna, they were too exposed out here. He nodded for Shadow to enter first, ready to silently drop the hatch closed behind them.

“Stay close, but keep behind me once we’re in,” he breathed. “Left flank, okay?” 

\--

Shadow had lived with her ninja family all her life and didn't know anything else, but even after twenty years, watching any of them slip seamlessly into ninja mode was still impressive. 

None of them were loud in general unless they wanted to, but they could still slip into almost uncanny silence when the situation demanded it. No matter how much Shadow tried to follow suit, her breathing, the heavy soles of her combat boots, the crinkle of her leather jacket were too loud in her own ears and she felt like any Foot nearby would be able to hear her from a mile away.

But as the two of them scurried past the open streets and toward the graveyard, nothing happened. Shadow could feel her heart beating in hre chest -- there were no signs of anyone around, but she hoped there would just be fractions of the rebels down in the basement, laying low until the worst blew over.

Raphael held the doors open for her, and she quickly hopped in past him. The ceiling was low, so she had to draw her head in between her shoulders a little. Blinking heavily, she clung to the hunting knife in her hands and waited for Raph to take the lead again.

It was a short trek through the basement until they reached a pair of solid steel doors that very obviously had not been part of the church, but installed later on. Shadow knew from her mother that this had, once upon a time, been a hideout to the turtles -- so surely this was Uncle Donatello's work? But no matter how much Shadow searched her memories, she couldn't remember if she had been here before. 

And Raph was the wrong person to ask.

\---

Raph knew why April had picked this location, but that didn’t mean he had to like being here. Any place steeped in memories of better times was just a means of self punishment these days, something to be avoided at all cost. But he had to resist running his good hand gently through the dust coating one of the steel doors; an echo of one lost brother hammering out the dents in the metal rang in his ears. 

God, he was tired. Not just tired from recent events but _tired,_ every inch of him feeling every long shitty year it had suffered through. As soon as they were through this damn door and he was sure the remnants of the old one-time lair were safe, he was gonna throw himself down on the floor and just . . . sleep.

He let out a weary sigh through his teeth, louder than he should have been but unable to hold it back. The doors were out of place but pretty nondescript, more a set of panels than anything. No obvious handles, in fact, when you took a second look.

He turned away from them, heading toward a pile of furniture stacked haphazardly in the corner of the room. There was a lectern for sermons mashed up against the wall, seemingly fallen at a random angle, but he knew if he tried to move it would be stuck fast. He reached around behind it, into the cavity at the base, where Don had hidden the switch.

He paused. Even in the basement gloom, he could see that the thick dust on the lever had been disturbed.

“Think someone’s already been here,” he warned Shadow in a low whisper. “Be ready.”

The steel doors popped almost soundlessly when the lever was pulled - a testament to his brother’s mechanical genius and eye for maintenance - but it was even darker and quieter through the resulting gap, revealing absolutely nothing about what lay beyond. His old faithful sai back in his hand, Raphael took point and headed inside. 

\---

  
  


Shadow swallowed nervously when Raphael voiced his suspicion and, weapon drawn, vanished into the perfect darkness beyond. Part of her wanted to call him paranoid, and that someone being here was a good sign -- right? -- but she knew he had every right to be paranoid.

Still, she wished she had a flashlight or something, because the darkness in the safehouse was perfect and terrifying. Too many of Mikey's old horror flicks went like this. 

And while she still thought this she realized that Raphael had stepped away from her and she had no idea where he was anymore. Her only point of orientation was the slightly lighter darkness of the doors behind her.

And then, the doors closed, and Shadow jumped with a startled yelp, and then a large hand covered her mouth. Shadow yelled some more.

"Shh," hissed a warm voice next to her. The hand vanished from her mouth, and landed on her shoulder instead. "It's just me."

When she felt like she could breathe again and the shock had ebbed away, Shadow reached out in the darkness and hit Leo right on the beak with her hand. "Uncle Leo?"

"Yes," he said with a soft laugh, taking her hand from his face. "Oh, thank all spirits you're all right."

"Uncle Leo!" Shadow sobbed, and threw out her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I was so scared!"

\---

Raph knew there was someone in the room the second he stepped through the door. They didn’t make a sound, and there wasn’t any movement, but there was just . . . a _presence._ Maybe he wasn’t the most spiritual of his brothers but he could sense that much, at least.

But surely nobody with good intentions would come in here and sit quiet in the dark. It had to be an intruder, and he was so focused on figuring out where exactly they were that he didn’t realise Shadow had drifted away from him until the door closed, plunging them into total darkness and driving a startled cry from her. The next sound she made was muffled, and someone _had_ her, and that dropped the bottom out of his stomach and fuelled the pistons of his heart into overdrive and filled his lungs with enough air for a furious bellow . . . that he never had to unleash.

Because it was goddamn Leonardo, being a goddamn overdramatic asshole lurking in the dark like the phantom of the goddamn opera. And if Raphael felt a stab of relief, knowing his brother had survived the raid, then his pride made him bury it under a landslide of habitual irritation instead.

He’d failed. The thought hollowed out his insides. His brother had grabbed Shadow from right under his nose; his one job and he’d _screwed it up,_ and if it’d been an enemy his niece would be _dead,_ and Leo was no doubt just _waiting_ to rub that in.

The roar he’d built up escaped him in a guilty, frustrated gust of air, but before he could follow it up with a slew of his usual vitriol there came the unmistakable and gut-punching sound of his niece bursting into tears. 

It knocked the wind out of him - she’d held it together so well out there! Had she really been just inches away from bawling her eyes out the entire time? It was probably Leo, scaring the shit out of her on top of her already shattered nerves. Ugh. He swallowed down the bristly resentment for her sake - for now, anyway. Sooner or later it’d all come bursting out of him. It always did, no matter how hard he tried to keep the peace . . . and, let’s face it, when it came to Leo? Most of the time, he didn’t even _want_ the peace. Not anymore.

“H-hey, kid, everything’ll be fine. I mean, it ain’t the big welcome party I was hopin’ for, but it’s a start, right?”

He turned slightly, balancing a sai between thumb and forefinger. His depth perception wasn’t what it used to be but he’d learned to adapt, and in the dark it didn’t really matter anyway. His good sense of orientation and his memory of this chamber imposed over the feel of the space around him was all he needed.

Master Splinter would always yell at him for unnecessarily throwing his weapons, but Master Splinter wasn’t here anymore - a fact that always sat and corroded in his heart and mind whenever Leonardo was in his proximity. So he threw the sai anyway out of spite, and his aim and his recollection were true; when it clanged against something metallic, a few sickly bare lightbulbs suddenly sputtered to life and chased the shadows to the edges of the entry space.

\--

Shadow sputtered a bit in the sudden light, blinking and wiping her eyes from the tears that so suddenly and unstoppably had burst out of her. 

Leonardo did the same, carefully feeling with his thumbs over her cheeks, then carefully pushing her hair back from her forehead, tucking it behind her ears. "Oh little Shadow," he said softly. "Don't cry."

"You just startled me," said Shadow defensively, but she let him feel and make sure she truly was alright. "Uncle Raph made sure I was safe."

Leo stiffened. He inclined his head a little; not tuning his face toward Raph entirely, but something along the lines of acknowledging him nonetheless. "If I had been an enemy--" he started.

\---

Oh, he just couldn’t help himself, could he?

Raph had been stooping to collect his fallen sai when Mr Perfect decided everyone needed to hear his always-unwanted criticism. Between the stinging truth of it and the sheer, magnanimous _arrogance,_ his vision was suddenly swimming in so much red that holding back for Shadow was simply not an option. He couldn’t even _see_ her through the rage.

He flinched up straight, clenching his fists - and his warning growl turned into a guttural expression of the pain that shot up his bad arm, listing him to one side and sending the sai clattering back to the floor. It wasn’t enough to short out his anger though; he snapped around to face Leo, clutching the wounded limb in fury.

“Y’know, Leo, it’s been a _real_ long helluva day,” Raph said in a voice as steady and friendly as broken glass, “so I’ll be generous and give you one opportunity to _shut_ your damn _trap._ Because I know, I just _know_ you do not actually _want_ a conversation with _me_ about _lettin’ family get hurt.”_

\--

"Don't," came Shadow's soft plea from next to him, but Leo gently took her by her slim shoulders to step between her and his brother. 

"You're right," he said, voice cool and cutting like ice. "I don't. Because it has been a long day, and I am _tired_ of you throwing accusations around when you have no basis to stand on, Raphael. We've been over this, time and time again. I did what I had to do. Our Master's death is not on my conscience, and neither is Donatello's. But because you cling to this foolish idea that it should be, you're instead blind to the truth of your own faults: You abandon the only remaining family you have, time and time again. How can you sleep at night, Raphael, knowing that you're letting everyone down, when you should be there for them, protecting them?" 

\---

The frustration that tore out of Raphael’s throat was almost feral, and he was oblivious to just how tightly he was gripping his wounded arm - the pain simply couldn’t penetrate the fog of rage that had descended over him. How could this same argument still be so fresh and raw every time it swung back around?

“Donnie,” Raph yelled raggedly, “ _ain’t dead!_ But if he ever comes back and sees you swannin’ around, puttin’ on all these damn airs like you’re God’s perfect gift and never made a damn mistake in your life, he’ll wish he was! _You’re_ the one who screwed this family over six ways from Sunday, Leo! _You_ abandoned Master Splinter, and then you abandoned this team, and since you ain’t the Fearless Leader anymore, I _don’t_ gotta answer to you! Not for shit!” 

\--

Leo was about to open his mouth, but Shadow was quicker. "Stop!" she yelled, actually stomping her foot down. "Stop it! _Both_ of you!"

There was a moment of tense silence, and Shadow tried to hold back the sob in her throat but didn't succeed. She wiped angrily at her eyes that were leaking tears again. "God, you two _suck,"_ she said angrily. "Can't we be happy for five minutes that we're _all still here?_ I'm hungry and tired and I just wanna see my Mom again and Uncle Mikey and I don't have the _energy_ right now to deal with you two trying to kill each other! You can both go sit in a corner until you're ready to _behave!_ Jesus Christ!"

She took a shaky breath, glaring at both of them even as her lower lip quivered. Though Leo couldn't see her do it, he must have sensed it, because his tense stance slackened a little and he turned his face away.

  
  
  
  


\---

Shadow’s palpable distress should have cut through to him faster, but Raphael’s temper simply didn’t work like that; it was always a deluge, not a faucet that could be quickly turned off. That she was upset - that _he_ had been involved in upsetting her - was mortifying agony, but he could only cool down by inches and with time.

So instead of the necessary apology he clamped his jaw shut, breathed heavily through his nose, prised his hand from his arm, picked up the sai again and squeezed for dear life. He stirred restlessly, wishing he had the guts to look his niece in the eye and tell her he was sorry, but knowing that remorse did not extend to his brother, and he was only really sorry that she had seen it.

All the while, the mere silent presence of Leonardo harassed him like an abscess.

There were mantras, breathing and grounding techniques for bringing himself back from the edge of his ever-potent fury. Trouble was, he couldn’t use them anymore without thinking of the rat who had patiently taught them to him, and when the trigger of the anger in the first place was the brother who’d let Sensei die . . .

He just had to muddle through as best he could, as quickly as he could, pointedly not looking at Leo and waiting until he felt able to coax a level-headed word out from his gritted teeth. Maybe it was only half a minute, a minute, but no doubt it was an eternity of further disappointment to Shadow - and another metaphysical ass-kicking from the grave from Jones for making his daughter cry. _Again._

“ . . . This place seems safe enough,” he muttered. “I . . . could go out and look for your Ma and Mikey, maybe, if you wanted?”

  
  


\--

  
  


With uncles like these, who needed children? Shadow watched with some trepidation as the argument actually stopped after her words. Leo simply withdrew into himself. He turned away and slowly walked back to one of the sleeping cots in the corner to go sit down. Shadow noticed that he favored a leg, and immediately worried about that, but there was also still Raph to worry about.

She turned toward him. He had his shell turned toward her, but she could see the death grip on his sai and the tense line of his jaw and shoulders. And she knew how hard it was for him to control herself. She knew because she was the same. Maybe not as extreme, maybe not as helpless, but she understood nonetheless.

So when the first thing he choked out was the question whether or not she wanted him to _leave,_ it just hurt all the more. 

“I…” she started, sighed, shoulders drooping. “I _want_ you to sit down, and eat something, and let me rebandage your arm, and for you to get some sleep, Raph,” she said, but there was no fight left in her. She was just tired, suddenly. It was childish, to hope that Raphael and Leonardo would just shake hands and make up. This feud had been going on for so long, it wouldn’t magically stop just because they were _forced_ to be in one room together. Because she wanted them to.

“But do what you think is best,” she added, defeated. If he needed to leave, there was no stopping him. And Leo was here, and she could hopefully regroup with her mother and the rebels with his help just as well. 

There was a soft shift where Leo had settled with his shell against the wall on his cot. He carefully stretched the injured leg out and slowly leaned his head back. “Med bay is where it always was,” he said, vague in a way how he did not address anyone in particular in the room. “Still smells the same, too. Incredibly, really, with nobody here to be paranoid about germs. And there’s MREs in what used to be the kitchen. I advise against the mashed potatoes. And the bathroom is over there.” For Shadow’s sake only, as he talked he pointed into the direction of all the different hallways that branched off the main room they were in right now. 

“Oh,” said Shadow, suddenly realizing one more thing that was uncomfortable. “Bathroom sounds like a really good idea actually.” But bladder emergency or not, she hesitated and turned to Raph. “If I make us something that’s not mashed potatoes, will you stay?” she asked softly.

\---

Raph knew he’d said the wrong thing because of the way Shadow deflated, shrinking in on herself like a wilting flower.

Not that there was a right thing to say that wasn’t _sorry,_ but he kicked himself for it anyway. When she asked if he would stay, all soft and hesitant like she was just steeling herself for the disappointment, he practically flinched. 

“I wasn’t tryin’ to get out of here,” he insisted weakly. “I know you’re worried about your Ma and I just thought . . .” Thought he could do something useful instead of being a failed asshole of an uncle, something practical that _meant_ something to her instead of the pathetic absence of an apology. And if it got him away from Leo, that was just a bonus. 

But the look on her face and the exhaustion in her voice made it clear he’d thought wrong. He wiped the grit of fatigue out of his eye and sighed. “It was a stupid idea, I guess. Better to wait here for ‘em and . . . well, maybe you’re right. I ain’t in the best shape for recon, am I?” Raph wouldn’t normally admit it, especially with Leo in earshot, but telling her he was _fine_ was only likely to piss her off even more. It was the least he could do to give a little ground. “I’ll stay. Even if it’s mashed potatoes. Do your worst, gremlin.” 

\--

  
  


She smiled a little when he told her that. "I can do much worse than mashed potatoes, believe me," she told him, a little bit of good humor back to her voice. "Being housewife-y really isn't my strong suit." 

Then she looked between her uncles again. "I'm going to pee," she said. "I'll be back in like thirty seconds. A minute tops. I promise I'll speed pee. _Don't_ kill each other in the meantime."

She shot Raph a last look and flicked Leo on the arm as she passed him to let him know she meant it, and then vanished into the surrounding tunnels.

Leo waved her hand away with a little bit of a smile to his face before her steps retreated and he was alone with Raphael. 

How ironic, Leo thought, that the lack of sight was actually a blessing in that very moment. Leonardo was very glad that he didn't have to deal with the awkwardness of not knowing where to look. He could sense Raphael to the other side of the room, he could smell his leather jacket and the tinge of blood and the undeniably comfortable note of _brother_ and _home_ that had never left Raphael, no matter what happened between them.

He wondered if he should thank him for keeping their niece safe, but sensing Raphael would consider it condescending, he didn't, and so didn't say anything at all. 

\---

Raph followed Shadow with one weary eye and a wry smile, but there was no denying she sucked what little joy existed out of the room when she disappeared from view. A weighty, oppressive silence settled over the brothers left behind.

His gaze drifted apprehensively to Leo. He hadn’t looked at him properly since they’d arrived; Leo couldn’t see him staring, but Raphael always felt completely unnerved about doing it anyway. His brother had ways of making you question whether he was really blind at the best of times, and there was something innately intimidating about the depth and complexity of thought that churned away behind the unseeing, ice-calm facade. 

Leo hadn’t made it out of the raided base unscathed. His exposed skin was battered and bruised, fatigue lined his face heavier than age and he thought he could make out a bandage decorating one leg. A sibling was hurting, and of course Raph _cared,_ but there was also that spiteful little voice in his head that sang: “Not so perfect after all, are ya?”

Shadow was right - he did suck. It was so hard, though. Just _looking_ at Leo made old grievances stir in all the darkest places of him, a summoning of anxious fiery demons that roiled behind his plastron, desperate for release in a roar of grieving fury. Raphael deserved most of his family’s disappointment, he’d never deny that. But maybe if they ever saw just how big the monster inside of him really was, and how hard he fought to keep it locked away, they’d respect him at least a little for not murdering everyone in sight on a daily basis. 

“So,” he grunted suddenly. “Resistance is in shambles. Things could be like this for . . . a while.” Raph paused, stepping gingerly through all the hostile words that littered his mind to try and find some that wouldn’t ignite immediately on release. “Can’t stand to see her cry. So while we’re here, you keep off my shell, and I’ll keep off yours. Deal?” 

\--

  
  


Leo was surprised that Raphael would propose a truce. And then he was surprised at himself for being surprised about it: Family had always been everything to his little brother. No matter how bitter things had gotten between them, he would be willing to put it all aside for his niece, wouldn’t he?

But then, why would he not see Leo’s sacrifice for the sake of their family, why would he deem him a _traitor,_ and why would he---!

No. It wasn’t important right now. It wasn’t the time for an age-old family feud when there were things at stake that were bigger than the both of them. The Foot bombing the rebel hideout had massive implications. They still didn’t know if April had made it. If something would have happened to her, the whole rebellion was doomed. Nobody could carry the torch like she had done over the past decades. Certainly none of the turtles. Shadow would try, but she was still so _young._ Angel, for all that he loved her, wasn’t a leader type. And who else was there? 

“Deal,” he said after a moment, and purposefully let his shoulders relax a little. “Mind to tell me your side of the story though? I can smell the blood of your wound to here, and Shadow is obviously worried. How did you get out?”

\--

Raphael wasn’t sure how surprised he ought to be that Leo immediately accepted. His brother always was the one to keep a cool head, but over the past few decades that coolness had become a bitter chill that could burn you as easy as fire.

He _was_ surprised when his brother latched onto his injuries, however. Sure, Shadow had vaguely referenced them, but Leo’s creepy smell-o-vision still caught him off-guard. 

“Ehh, it’s nothin’,” he muttered, a little defensive as he wrapped his hand back over his forearm, cradling it against his plastron. It throbbed something awful. Shadow had done her very best field first aid, though; hopefully it wouldn’t get infected, or he’d be in some trouble with a wound that deep. “Just got my wing clipped, is all. It’ll heal. Shadow’s okay, that’s the main thing.” He shook his head, a little anger creeping into his voice that for once wasn’t directed at Leo. “We got waylaid on the way out, an ambush in tight quarters. There were so many of ‘em. They must have been planning this for a while.”

God, was he really out here just having a simple conversation with Leo? Not that it was easy - he felt like a drunk, carefully putting one inoffensive word down after the other to prove he was sober, and at perpetual risk of staggering off the straight line into impulsive hostility.

“You ain’t lookin’ so hot yourself,” he warned. “Did half the base land on your head or somethin’? Shad can look you over first.”

\-- 

“It’s nothing,” said Leo, and realized just when he had said it that he was parroting Raph’s words back at him. “Though it might as well have,” he allowed, in case Raph inquiry came from a place of concern, not hostility. “But I’m not too worried. I got here twelve, maybe eighteen hours ago, and slept some four or six of those. I’m not entirely sure how much time passed. But I think I’m in better shape than you two right now.”

He frowned and shook his head, taking a deep breath to steel his resolve. “Raph,” he said, “I’m worried about the Foot. I’m worried that we missed all the signs for this attack and how unprepared we were, and how well prepared _they_ were. We got _really_ lucky. By all means it’s a miracle we’re even here.” He rubbed his hands over his mouth in thought. “I’m thinking there’s a possibility of a leak in April’s line of command. Worst case scenario, a mole. I don’t know. _Something’s_ not right.”

\---

“Had the same thought,” Raph scowled. “April’s real careful. Her security protocols are top notch, but . . .” He couldn’t help but wince - laying any criticism at the rebel leader’s door always felt utterly undeserved. “She’s also soft, ain’t she. I know she can make the hard decisions when she has to, but when it comes to people, she’ll give anyone a fair shot. She uh . . . doesn’t give up on even a hopeless cause.”

The words hung awkwardly in the air for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Whoever it was can’t have been too high up the chain, though. Else I figure all the safehouse locations’d be compromised, too. We gotta keep radio silence goin’ until we know for sure the stinkin’ mole’s been dug out. Can’t risk a second raid, not with Shadow here.”

\--

"Her willingness to forgive is certainly one of her best features, but it's also easily exploited," Leo agreed softly. "I hope that wherever she is, she considers the possibility as well, and is careful." He sighed. "Nothing we can do about it for now though. We need to lay low for a while, much as I hate to admit it."

The sound of heavy combat boots coming back down the hallway alerted him to Shadow making her way back to them, and he shut his beak. Rebel leader's daughter or not, Shadow was on a need-to-know basis, and making her worry was counterproductive. Besides, at this point all talk of a leak was just speculation, anyway. Leonardo liked to be prepared, but he also didn't think he needed to jump to conclusions.

"Okay, the med bay is stocked really well, actually," Shadow said as she reappeared, carrying a first aid kit. "We can finally disinfect your arm, Raph. Are you in pain? Because we also have pain killers!"

\---

At the sound of Shadow’s returning footsteps, Raph shuffled on his feet and tried not to look too suspect. He was more embarrassed about being caught having a non-aggressive conversation with his brother than talking about the girl’s mom, though.

Worse, he realised he was still holding his wounded arm. He lowered it gingerly, but Shadow was already on a warpath for his injuries and he probably wouldn’t escape that easily. 

“You ain’t gonna rest ‘til you got me tucked up in bed, are ya, kid?” Raph sounded wearily amused rather than annoyed. “Yeah, sure. I could go for a few. Was the water runnin’ okay? If it ain’t, I’ll check out the plumbing soon as I’ve got a little sleep.”

\--

"Turtles have a history of being _really_ bad at self-care," Shadow quipped easily. "So you can keep me safe during the fights, and I you after. Now sit down and suck it up." She smiled a little at him though; feeling better now that everyone was indeed safe, and however tentative and awkward the peace between her uncles was, they at least didn't seem to antagonize each other on purpose. 

And she was a war child, after all. Peace was something to be savoured while it lasted. It was a fragile, scarce little thing. Leonardo and Raphael in one room together was more than she could have hoped for.

She made Raph sit down on one of the many cots that were lying around, stacked and shoved into corners should they be needed, and she helped him peel off the heavy jacket. The old bandages were partially bled through again and the wound underneath didn't look _good,_ but it would've been much worse for a human, she knew that much. Some disinfectant, a few painkillers, and new gauze would go a long way. And then some proper food, water and some rest.

"The water was running fine but didn't get hot," she said as she redressed the wound. "Probably needs a generator? I didn't see one though, but there's a door that's closed and I couldn't get it open. Maybe it's behind there?"

Leo, still sitting on his own cot on the opposite side of the room, felt like the temperature in the room dropped. It wasn't Shadow's fault, of course, she didn't _know_ \-- the last time she had been here had been _so_ long ago. 

But Raphael's reaction to their last, lost brother was hardly ever favorable.

"It probably is," he said softly. "That room… used to be Donatello's lab. He left… a lot of unfinished work behind. We didn't know what to do with it, but we didn't want to throw it out so we just… left it there."

"I… oh," Shadow muttered. "S- sorry, I… I didn't know…"

\---

Raph submitted himself to Shadow’s tender ministrations without further protest, and as soon as he sat down on the cot he knew he wasn’t gonna be moving again for a little while. Every tired joint and aching muscle gave up the ghost the second he let it relax. 

Beneath the old bandaging the wound was looking ugly, but at least it also looked clean and wasn’t giving off the kind of stink that would have all his alarm bells ringing. That was a miracle, given the ragged exit wound, although a few stitches probably wouldn’t go amiss now they had some real supplies. As Shadow worked her magic and doused the lot in disinfectant, Raphael never made a sound. Pain was familiar and grounding; he was in a safe place, and all he had to do was breathe, steady and patient, through the discomfort.

Until she mentioned Donnie’s lab. _Then_ all of him tensed up, holding onto the breath he dragged in loudly through his nose for far too long. He squeezed his eye closed, desperately trying not to picture the lab in his mind, with the ghost of his missing brother wandering through it.

How could the grief still hurt this much? Time was meant to dull everything, but he was pretty sure he’d never experienced a dull emotion in his life. Maybe it was the simple fact that they didn’t _know,_ and as they grew older and older he had to stare down the fact that they might _never_ know. Raph couldn’t let Donatello go while there was a chance he was still out there. He couldn’t accept his probable death the way Leonardo had. There was a chance, a tiny chance, and that was enough to keep the wound of Don’s absence from ever healing properly.

Shadow’s awkward ‘sorry’ was enough to make him breathe out again. He made a reassuring noise, only distinguishable from his other gravelly, non-verbal utterances by those who knew him best. Her gaze had dipped toward the floor, so he lightly touched a knuckle to her jaw to bring it back up again where it belonged.

“‘S’okay. Ain’t your fault, and I meant what I said before about apologies, kid. We . . . can check it out later. Soon as I’ve got some sleep. Not sure I could tie a shoelace right now, let alone fix a generator.” 

Wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing the lab at all, frankly, but Raph wasn’t about to admit that.

\--

  
  


Shadow smiled a little at Raph, relieved that he hadn’t -- what, exploded and run off, arm still only half bandaged? Started another screaming match with Leonardo? All of the above?

She leaned her face a little against his hand, closing her eyes for a moment. “Good that you don’t wear shoes, then,” she said easily. “Because I wouldn’t wanna help with that. I don’t wanna come near your feet, ever. Gross.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him, and finished with the bandages, leaning back and wiping her hands on her thighs. “Okay,” she said with an air of finality. “Time to find us some food.”

“Shadow,” said Leonardo gently. “You should sit down and rest. I can do it.”

“No way, you’re hurt too,” said Shadow, climbing back to her feet. “And blind.”

“I can prepare food,” said Leo. “Do you think I just don’t eat when I’m on my own?”

“I mean, probably,” said Shadow, and she went over to him, holding her hand out. He sensed she was there and took it. Shadow squeezed it and then bowed down to place a kiss to his head. “Some kind of buddhist monk technique to meditate the hunger away or something.”

“Shinto,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” she laughed, and left him. “Sit tight. I’ll get the grub.” 

And with that, she had disappeared again. Leonardo sighed and rubbed his face. She really was the daughter of her parents -- between April’s unending determination and Casey’s uncanny ability to keep going, they had one hell of a kid. 

\---

Raphael chuckled as Shadow left him, and the grin persisted as she ribbed Leo. Only she could get away with saying stuff like that - if he tried it, he and his brother would be scrapping in a pile on the floor in seconds. The difference was in how Shadow probably didn’t have an ounce of mean spirit in her body, he guessed; Raph, on the other hand, could be spiteful as hell.

She departed to cook, leaving him alone once more with his estranged brother. A thought dawned on him then, one that made him feel suddenly cold all over.

Whenever it all got too much for him and he had to leave, to wrestle with his grief and rage alone in privacy where he couldn’t hurt anyone but himself, it was always secure in the knowledge that the base would still be there to come back to. That April would always be there running the ship 24/7, that Shadow was about as safe as she could be in her care, that Mikey was there to watch over the both of them. Maybe it was cowardly to walk away for even a minute, but the resistance was a constant - its war against the Shredder raged on with or without him. Once upon a time _everything_ had rested on the young shoulders of his little band of unusual siblings - if they hadn’t stepped up, nobody would. But with the resistance, they had allies who cared about the cause, too, who could keep going even when they - when _he_ \- could not.

He hadn’t realised how much reassurance he drew from that. Now . . .

“Leo . . .” he said in a voice that sounded too small for him, the voice of someone totally lost. “What happens if . . . we’re the only ones left?”

\--

  
  


Leo didn’t have to think. “We’re not,” he said, voice steely. “I helped people get away myself. Cooper and Johnson and a couple of others. I sent them to safehouses F13 and B27. For now I think we’re safer in several groups. I’ve not…” he paused, wiping a hand over his mouth in thought again. “I don’t have any _conclusive_ evidence that April and Mikey made it. I didn’t come across them again. But I think when the bomb exploded, it exploded to the west of us -- meaning I was closest. We all got blasted east. I _think_ I made it out through hallway T4, though I got turned around and lost my sense of direction for a while. But if it was T4, and you were south of me, I’m guessing you and Shadow retreated through T5? And Mike and April were between T4 and T3. So they either made it out before me, though that seems unlikely. Or they just went for a different exit, and that’s why we were split up. I don’t… have an feasible way of knowing how bad the hall actually looked after the explosion. Maybe exits were blocked off. I’m not entirely sure where the Foot came in from, either.”

Leo thought for a moment. Despite his disability, he was highly functional, but in situations like these, he was painfully reminded of what he’d lost. There were so many visual clues that he missed now; even the simple, easy things everyone else probably didn’t even notice.

It was right that he had stepped down as leader. He should have stepped down a long time ago. How could he possibly lead his family like this?

At the same time, considering everything from any angle was still what he did best.

“If something had happened to April,” he decided, lifting his head to turn his face toward his brother with a determined expression, “we would have _heard_ something. It would have been all over the announcements. The rebel leader, finally defeated -- the Shredder would _gloat._ But there was nothing.” 

\---

As a leader, Leonardo’s biggest strength had been his surety. There was no way, in all the crazy stuff they’d fought through over the years, that he actually knew what he was doing all of the time, but somehow he’d always _sounded_ like he did. And he made decisions quickly and firmly enough that they always had direction. 

Leo didn’t even hesitate in shutting down Raph’s worried train of thought. His words were firm and clear and he broke down the situation into all its logical parts, hunting for the truth amongst the pieces.

Raphael used to find it inspiring. All of his brothers had. No matter his adolescent rivalries with Leo, he’d hung on the turtle’s every word in times of crisis just as much as Don and Mikey had. Maybe that was why he’d asked Leo that desolate question to begin with. In the old days, so long as Leo had a plan, he’d trusted that everything would turn out okay somehow.

But Raph hadn’t trusted a plan of Leo’s since his decision to leave Master Splinter behind to die. He suddenly felt childish and irritated for exposing any weakness to his brother; where once he saw clarity and calm in Leo’s words, now he impulsively suspected the cool condescension of someone who had no respect left for him. It made him want to disagree on principle. 

“The Foot had clean-up teams out there,” he said bluntly. “A lot of ‘em. We saw some folk get out, too, but after that me and Shad were constantly on the run. I hope they didn’t catch any of the escapees, but it don’t seem realistic. Still . . .” Raph begrudgingly nodded in Leo’s direction, even if he couldn’t see it. “You’re right about the Shredder bein’ one to gloat. We didn’t hear a thing about it on the evenin’ announcements, and it ain’t like you can miss the noise those damn blimps make at night.”

\--

"I'm not saying there weren't terrible losses, Raph," said Leo cooly. "I'm saying I don't think April and Mikey were among them. There's no doubt a lot of people died, and the Foot will pay for it, but for now, we need to focus on regrouping, find out how the leak happened and if someone is responsible, and lay low until the worst has blown over. There's really no point in getting sentimental about what we can't change now."

\---

The word ‘sentimental’ was like a slap in the face. Delivered in Leo’s nigh-robotic tone of voice, it shoved a hot poker into the embers of Raph’s animosity.

“Oh yeah, silly me,” he growled automatically. “I forgot ya don’t experience _emotions_ like the rest of us anymore. Must’ve made it real easy to -”

He snapped his own beak shut, covering it firmly with his good hand for a second as he battled the anger back down. What _was_ it with Leo? How could such a passionless asshole push his buttons so easily? He was angrier at himself than anyone. This conversation had only started because he’d forgot himself in a moment of stupid weakness and reached out for reassurance, from the worst possible source.

“No,” he huffed out on a loud breath. “Forget it. We made a deal and I ain’t breakin’ it. I’m _tryin’_ here, Leo. So I guess we run with your plan ‘til we got something’ better.”

\--

Leo was ready to remind Raph that his precious 'emotions' were more often than not what got them into trouble, and that it was Raph's emotions that were the root of their feud in the first place, because Raph wasn't able to move on and let the past _go._ It wasn't healthy. Their Master and brother were gone, but they still had family _left,_ and that family were the ones they needed to protect now, in the present-- 

But to his own surprise, Raphael reeled himself back in, if surely not for Leonardo's sake. As it were, even with the tentative reminder of their truce, all Leo had to say to Raph would only pour oil into the fire. 

So Leo shifted slightly on his cot, rubbing a hand over his wounded leg. "We're safe here for now, at least," he said, carefully picking his words. "For now let's focus on getting some rest. Tomorrow you two need to do a visual check of the place. Once one of us is better, we can do some recon."

\---

“Yeah, yeah, checkin’ this place over was already next on my list,” Raphael groused. Working with Leo didn’t mean he was up for following orders. He carefully eased his freshly-bandaged arm out of the way, shuffling into a comfier position on the cot. If it weren’t for Shadow on the way with food, he was pretty sure he’d already have his head down in sleep, but she wanted him to eat. And at the moment, what Shadow wanted, Shadow got.

“I just need an hour or two,” he yawned. “Then I’ll give it a look-over. April’s obviously been stowing supplies here, but the place ain’t had much maintenance since we left it behind. As for recon . . . well, exactly how bad is that leg of yours?”

\--

"I think 'an hour or two' will not be enough to placate your niece," Leo said. "She really takes after her mother as far as, well, mothering us is concerned." 

The question of how he was doing himself was unwanted, but probably fair. Leo didn't like feeling useless any more than Raph did, and they both had a history of not taking their wounds seriously. In fact, Leo was fairly sure that he had actually made his injuries worse by overexerting himself. 

"Like I said," he allowed, "the leg will be fine. It's sprained, maybe broken, but I can already feel the mutagen patching it up and I could walk well enough with a splint. By the end of the week I'll be back on my feet, so to speak. And the food reserves are well stocked. I just did a quick inventory, but April has enough food and supplies here for about thirty people for two weeks, so we'll be fine even when other rebels start showing up."

"All things considered, the kitchen is pretty well stocked," said Shadow from the hallway and then popped back into the room. She was carrying a tray with three plastic plates and three bottles of water and a carton of orange juice. "But it's so obvious that this used to be you guys' place because everything is like, eight inches further down than I expect it to be. I keep buttin' my head against pipes and stuff."

"Your father used to complain about that," said Leo, sitting up to accept a plate and a fork from Shadow. "I'll tell you what I always told him: For turtles, we're actually pretty tall."

Shadow snickered a little as she went to bring Raph some food as well. "Well, eat your greens and maybe you'll still grow an inch or two!" she said. "Although I'm honestly not sure if there's any nutrition in this astronaut food."

\---

Right, _just_ a broken leg, as if that wasn’t anything to worry about. Raphael rolled his eye dramatically - classic Leo. 

Shadow’s return was a welcome relief from playing nice. The effort had drained what little energy he had left, and he blinked tiredly at the plate of food he accepted from her. His mind was still reeling at the fact that Leo had just made a joke, like he still had a sense of humour or something. _Ha._

“Thanks, kid. Can’t be worse than protein bars, can it?” The rehydrated sludge on his plate looked like it might, in the far-off land of Imagination, come with a label like ‘beef stew’. Raph had never been a particularly picky eater, though, so long as it was edible and not an outright offence against god like some of the Mikey food combinations he’d been unfortunate enough to witness over the years. Dumpster diving for dinner as a child tended to give you an iron stomach.

He dug in, and it tasted better than it looked. At least it was warm. Hot food of any kind was a luxury in the apocalypse. 

“So d’ya think you’ll be able to sit down and rest a little now, Shadow?” he asked between rapid mouthfuls. “I know you’re antsy but you need some downtime, too. Maybe we should take shifts, though. Someone should be awake in case we get any visitors.”

  
  


\--

  
  


“I was thinking the same thing,” said Leo. He was eating at less than half Raph’s speed. Even before his blindness that had always been the case, but now, the added difficulty of feeling out with one fingertip where his food actually _was_ on his plate before he could scoop it up, and the care he put into not accidentally scraping it off the edge lest he sullied himself was making it even more blatant. 

“I’ll take first watch,” he offered, “so you two can get a few hours in. I can wake Raphael in four hours or so.”

“I can take middle watch!” protested Shadow around a full mouth. “I’m the only one without an injury, after all! _You two_ need to rest!”

“There won’t be a middle watch because _you_ are not taking _any_ watch, Shadow,” said Leo sternly. “You will be getting eight hours of sleep. No arguing.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me!” said Shadow. “No way!”

“Shadow,” Leonardo warned. “What did I _just_ say?”

“Ugh!” Shadow kicked her heel against the concrete floor. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do, Leo?”

\---

Shadow’s protest was so much an echo of himself that Raphael paused with a fork in his mouth, blinking a few times in her direction until he could be sure he’d heard correctly. He had to fight back a toothy grin; even if Leo couldn’t see it, Shadow would. The thought of tag-teaming a rebellion against his brother’s holier-than-thou attitude made him feel warm and cosy inside - after all, Leo had stepped down as leader, and he didn’t get to just take the mantle back up whenever he felt like it.

But it would only escalate to another fight, as these things always did, so he gritted his teeth and held the comment back. There was one thing he had to say, though.

“Hey, Shadow handled watches just fine on the way over here, Leo,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual as he scraped his plate clean. “She did good. Cut her some slack. Don’t see why she can’t take a shift if she wants one.”

\--

Leo paused where he was eating, holding plate and fork in his hands with his head levelled in their direction, staring at them unseeingly. His disapproval was palpable, but then he raised his brow ridges up in something like defeat -- or maybe just the understanding that he wouldn't win against the two of them ganging up on him.

"Very well," he said. "If that's what you wish. But take the last watch, simply because Raph and I can fight better in the dark. Does that sound agreeable?"

A victorious grin spread across Shadow's face that she shared quickly with Raph, thankful for his help. Because Leo couldn't see it, she quickly regulated her face back into a neutral expression, sniffed and said, like it didn't mean anything, "Sure, whatever."

\---

Shadow’s little victory grin made Raph smirk, and he gave her a little silent salute with one hand. All in a day’s work for a beloved uncle, ha . . . although if the gremlin was asleep on her feet tomorrow, Raph knew he’d be in for it. Hell, he’d probably be in for it anyway as soon as Leo caught him alone, but that was hours of sleep away, so for the time being he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The defeated look on his brother’s face was totally worth it.

“Shouldn’t be much to it,” he shrugged, ditching his plate to the floor and immediately sinking horizontally into the tough canvas of the cot. It creaked noisily as he tried to shift his weight into something approaching a comfortable position. “It’s pretty much front-door watch. If anyone comes along who doesn’t know where the switch is, you’ll probably hear a lotta noise first anyway, so just wake us up straight away. Tomorrow we can try and fire up the security system, see if it still works. There were a couple outside cameras, I think . . . It’d make things easier.” 

He was gonna look for a sheet he could convert into a hammock while he was at it, too. Beds designed for humans just straight-up gave no consideration to space for a carapace. Raph took up the customary compromise position on his side, using his rolled up jacket and curled, considerable bicep as a pillow.

“Just . . . don’t go out there without us, under any circumstances, okay?”

\--

"No, of course," muttered Shadow, still scraping together the last of her own food. Ugh, what was it with her uncles ( _both_ of them!) thinking she could do nothing by herself? She was thankful Raph had defended her, but he was just as overprotective as Leo! Must run in the family.

She wasn't gonna fight it though. She knew they had good intentions and only worried for their safety. If only they'd worry about their own safety just as much!

"If any rebels are still on their way here, they'd do best to move in the cover of night, so I hope they would arrive before your shift starts, anyway," said Leo. "In which case we'll all be awake anyway. So get some sleep, Shadow. You had a long couple of days."

Shadow just nodded. He was right, of course, and even though she didn't want to admit it, sitting down and eating and drinking just made her feel her exhaustion. She forced herself to finish her plate and wash it all down with some more water, and then got into her own cot. She hesitated for a moment but then allowed herself to finally unlace her boots and take them off. She unzipped her leather jacket and draped it over herself as she tried to get comfortable, and she didn't even remember if she wished her uncles a good night before she was out cold.

In the meantime, Leo was still slowly finishing his own meal, and was treated to nothing but the sounds of two people falling asleep. Shadow's breath was soft and deep, fitting for a girl of her statue. It reminded Leo of the time when April had lived with them and slept in Mikey's room, a lifetime ago. Having known only his three brothers, the difference between her and them had really struck him. 

Raphael, for what it was worth, still snored like he was adamant to win a contest. Leo huffed a little in irritation at the noise, and had half a mind to throw something at his brother to make him shut up and turn over so he'd stop, but he didn't.

He told himself because he didn't want to start a fight over something so insignificant, but really, he knew it wasn't that.

His little brother was here, he was safe, and when he was asleep, there were no accusations and no fighting, no hurt and no guilt.

Leo leaned back on his cot, closed his eyes, and meditated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fowo as Shadow & Leo, Hamster as Raph. We both drew this time, as a treat. :3

Raphael sank so quickly into overdue sleep that the next thing he was aware of was Leo's hand on his shoulder three hours later, a silent but firm changing of the guards. How he'd found Raph's shoulder instead of smacking him in the face was just another little blind Leo miracle to be thankful for.

The watch he took after waking was sombre, quiet and decidedly weird. There wasn’t much in the way of threat here, which left his mind to wander in ways he didn’t want. The old lair's familiar ambience bore down on him, surreal and unsettling, and at all times he was aware of Leo's barely-there breathing; even his big brother’s sleep behaviour embodied ninjutsu. Raph caught himself listening to it a lot over the next three hours, drawing a strange sense of calm from the metronomic rhythm - until he'd realise what he was doing and start pacing around for a while in irritation.

Ultimately, the watch only served to rob him of extra sleep. Nothing notable had happened by the time he gently shook Shadow awake for the last two hours (after briefly watching her sleep like a baby with a fond smile on his face). He didn't sleep so well that second round, stirring several times from dreams that escaped recall, but left his heart pounding and an inexplicable weight of distress deep in his chest. The familiarity of the old lair and the presence of his estranged brother so close to him seemed to have soaked into his subconscious, and he tossed and turned as he resisted its attempts to make him remember. 

It was almost a mercy when Shadow’s touch startled him awake. He jerked upright a little too quickly, blinking away the grogginess of broken sleep.

“Is it trouble or mornin’?” he croaked, straight to business. Business was easier to deal with than night phantoms. 

\--

Shadow was kneeling next to Raph’s cot and watched him sit up. “Depends on how much you like mornings,” she said with a little smile.

She was still tired, but in a much different way than she had been the past three days. This was just a matter of getting up too early, not the fitful sleep of someone on the run and constantly worried for their safety. With both her uncles here with her, she had felt so immensely _safe_ at night that she felt somewhat rested, and that was a very welcome feeling.

She wouldn’t bring it up if she didn’t have to, but she was actually thankful Leo had insisted she at least take the last watch so she could have some uninterrupted sleep. Damn him for always being right. He wasn’t even a parent, how did he _do_ it? 

If Leo knew, at least he had the grace to not bring it up. She’d woken him before Raph, and very much like his brother, he was awake and alert immediately, and after making sure everything was alright, had excused himself for morning kata.

Shadow let Raph sleep for the few additional minutes she needed to rifle through the cabinets in what had once been the kitchen and was now mostly storage for their astronaut food. And there, in the uppermost cabinet that even Shadow couldn’t reach without climbing on the counter, she had made an exciting discovery.

“But guess what,” she said, holding up a steaming mug to Raph’s face. “I found _coffee_.”

\---

As soon as that heady caffeine smell rolled over Raphael, a montage of scenes from his forgotten dreams popped into his mind’s eye. There was entirely too much _purple_ in them.

With some kind of bizarre future-vision he could see exactly what his impulses wanted to do - take the mug and hurl it across the room to watch it shatter in a steaming hot explosion of ceramic fragments and ruined beverage.

But Shadow looked more chipper, even if that veil of general war fatigue never left her or anybody’s face. He couldn’t face upsetting her _this_ early in the day, so instead he closed his hand over the offered mug and cradled it so close to his plastron he might as well have given it a hug. The heat of it seemed to sear into his soul.

“Lemme guess,” he breathed out slowly, bottling up the hurt. “It wasn’t easy to find. Almost like someone was tryin’ to hide it, huh?” Glancing sideways, Raph saw that Leo had already disappeared, although part of him had already sensed his absence. “There was an art to keepin’ the contraband from the do-gooder tattletails. Might even still have a few beers stashed behind a certain set of loose bricks.”

\--

Shadow, oblivious to the implication a single mug of _coffee_ could carry, chuckled a little. “Yeah, actually,” she said. “Definitely felt like someone tried really hard to hide it. From Uncle Mikey, I’m guessing? Can’t imagine Leo likes him on caffeine. Ha! This stuff is probably older than me. Dunno if that’s a good sign for your beer, though. Was that beer or wine that supposedly gets better with age?”

She grinned at him, and only when he didn’t smile back it occurred to her that something wasn’t right. “Uhm,” she said, shoulders drooping a little. “Did I say something wrong?”

\---

Shadow’s downbeat question snapped Raph’s attention back on her so fast he almost dropped the coffee.

“Wh- no! No, kid, it ain’t you.” So much for not upsetting her within ten minutes of waking up. Despite the twinge in his healing forearm he lifted his free hand up to gingerly touch the side of her head in apology. “You’re doin’ great. Me and Leo ain’t never been looked after better.” Raph almost stopped there, never one for _saying_ things that needed to be said, but he felt so keenly that he owed her some kind of explanation that he stumbled through as best he could. “It’s just . . . we weren’t here all that long. Maybe a year at most, while we were wreckin’ a bad Foot project operatin’ in these parts. But, I dunno. Still a lotta memories in this place, I guess. Keeps catchin’ me off guard. Sometimes I feel like I remember stuff that happened twenty or thirty years ago better’n I remember yesterday.”

He ought to tell her whose stash she’d rooted out. About the times he’d sneak a mug to his genius brother long past the bedtime Mamanardo had dictated, because Donnie only stopped working when Donnie wanted to, and if you sent him to bed before he was ready he just did wildly complex algebra in his brain instead and didn’t actually sleep. Raph would never let him go too far, though; he had tolerance limits, and if Don breached _those_ then he was just asking to be smashed in the face with some self-care. 

She loved old stories like that. But the words stuck fast in his throat along with his missing brother’s name, so he choked them back down with a sip of coffee hot enough to take the roof off his mouth. Robo-stoneheart Leo was always banging on about focusing on the present, he supposed, and there was nothing more present than Shadow perched in front of him.

“I’ll report back to ya on the beer later,” he deflected with a wry smile. “But the coffee’s all yours, to give to whoever ya want. Just . . . you ain’t wrong about caffeine and Mikey so maybe keep it away from him when he gets here, huh?”

\--

  
  


Shadow watched carefully as Raph went away to a faraway place she couldn't follow him to. It hurt her, sometimes, that he wouldn't or couldn't share, but she was old enough to have an understanding that life was different in her lifetime. Though she knew from her mother's (and a long time ago, her father's) stories that the turtles had always had a tough life and had to fight for peace, it all had become worse when the Shredder actually had taken over. 

For Shadow, that had been basically all her life. She remembered no peace, and no simpler times she could be nostalgic for. The closest she had were the memories of the time when her dad had still been around, and if that came any close to what the turtles felt in regards to their lost family members (and Casey had been one, too), then Shadow could understand that sometimes, there were no words that could help.

"I put all of it back where I found it," she told him when he finally returned to her, deflecting like it hadn't happened. "If he hasn't found it yet, he probably won't find it now. And I won't tell. It can be our secret."

She gave him a smile, hoping it would help, and gave his uninjured arm a little squeeze as she got up. 

"I found a few foods that claim they're breakfast-flavored, if you're hungry," she said. "I think Leo's still doing his kata in one of the rooms, if you want to avoid him for a little longer."

\---

“Avoid him? I oughtta go in there and kick his shell,” Raph grumbled, setting down the coffee mug at his feet. He unrolled his rumpled coat from its pillow shape and shrugged back into the folds of soft, battered leather, taking particular care with his bandaged arm. “Turtle’s got a broken leg or whatever and still thinks he needs to _train_. Idiot.”

He softened his expression as he reclaimed the coffee, gazing up at Shadow. “I’ll take breakfast, if it’s goin’. And as for our little secret, I’ll let ya share my flat beer if it survived, heh. What we really need, though, is hot water. Maybe it ain’t a spa but there’s a shower here, if we can get it workin’.” There was really no avoiding it - sooner or later he was gonna have to go rummage around in that damn lab. Raph preferred to fight his enemies head on.

\--

  
  


Shadow couldn’t help the smile a little -- they bundled it up in layers and layers of spite and animosity, but sometimes both Leonardo and Raphael let slip how much they still cared about each other’s well-being. 

She wouldn’t mention it to either of them, of course; knowing well enough how probably neither of them were really _aware_ of the fact, nor wanted to be confronted with it. But it helped against the pain a little: To know that despite all the fighting, the war, and all life had thrown at them, they still could get annoyed if the other wasn’t taking care of himself enough.

“Alright, it’s just a dumb generator, how hard can it be?” she said, getting to her feet and clapping Raph encouragingly on the knee. “I wanna see this infamous lab of my Uncle Don!”

\---

“Eh, don’t get your hopes up, kid,” Raphael groaned. “To your average non-geek, it’ll just look like a crazy mess, I guarantee it. Only your Ma could ever make sense of the stuff in his lab.”

See? How hard was that? Just casually refer to Don in a conversation like even the thought of his name _wasn’t_ a twist of the knife in his heart. Easy. The lab? Cake. He could do this. And if he could get it over with before Leo finished his stupid katas, no pressure from his blind judgemental staring, either.

“Okay.” He rose to his feet, still hanging onto the mug of hot coffee. “I guess we can do breakfast after. The two of us can handle a generator, or boiler, or whatever it is that’s broke, so let’s go get it done.”

\--

"Alright!" Shadow threw up her arms excitedly. "Let's get this little hideout nice and cozy for everyone who's coming after us! We can't all be sitting around in the dark like Uncle Leo, much as he wants us to. If I have the chance to take a hot shower, I'm _taking_ it!"

Maybe Raph would find her cheerfulness displaced, hurtful even, but Shadow herself didn't know how to handle the heaviness of the situation. 

She knew Donatello was a sore subject for Raph… all of her uncles, really. For a long while, her mother had been her only real source of information regarding the fourth turtle. Over the years, Mikey had started to talk to her about him a little as well. Raph and Leo, however… one wasn't ready, and the other one was over it.

The grief over losing her father was something she could share with her uncle, but she didn't _remember_ Donatello, and couldn't offer any help or advice other than… to keep going herself.

\---

Okay, so maybe no pressure from Leo, but Shadow’s enthusiasm gave Raphael a rumbling of nerves. He wanted that shower as badly as she did, though, and the cheerful twinkle in her eye made him _want_ to succeed in what should be a simple little maintenance job. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna need a little more than emergency lighting when the others get here.” Because why not keep up this sudden surge of optimism? Yeah, everything was _great_.

They padded down the tunnels toward the mysteriously bolted door. The key for the padlock was hidden so close it was almost pointless locking it at all; setting his mug briefly aside, Raphael reached behind some exposed pipes and plucked it from where it rested for years on one of the wall fixings. Sealing this place away hadn’t been for security though, had it? It had been . . . symbolic. More symbolic for some than others, though.

He stood in front of the door, staring down at the dusty key in his big calloused palm for just long enough to be awkward, before firmly jamming into the padlock. His first instinct was to toss it to the floor, but that’d make a huge noise and alert Leonardo, so he quietly traded it for his waiting coffee mug instead.

Flakes of rust grated off the bolt as Raph slid it aside and tugged the door open. A landscape of strange shapes of varying sizes - machines and furniture covered in smaller machines - rolled out in front of him, cast in the faint sickly glow of the emergency lights. Dust swirled, visibly thick in disturbed air that carried familiar traces of oil, chemicals and something metallic. There wasn’t a sound from the sizeable chamber, and in the gloom, it barely resembled the place that his pounding heart was afraid to recognise. Maybe that was the only reason he was able to step across the threshold.

They couldn’t see anything useful in the relative darkness, though. Raph swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Should, uh, be a flashlight in one of the shelves to the left. He always kept one close to the entrance.”

\--

Remembering how she had yesterday stood before this door, completely defeated by the simple padlock, and now watching how Raph so easily pulled the fitting key from its hiding place in the wall, Shadow felt a little embarrassed. Judging by how Raph seemed to space out, looking at the little key in his hand, she had a feeling he didn't notice.

She was curious and excited to see what lay beyond those doors, the stories she'd heard of Donatello as beloved as any other bedtime story or fairy tale from her youth, but she didn't push her uncle to hurry up. What were a few more moments?

When he finally stepped inside the lab, it was Shadow who hesitated a moment longer, but his comment about the flashlight startled her back into movement. 

"Right!" she said, and, keeping her hand on the wall next to her, carefully crept the length of the room, startling every time her toes knocked into something, but the shape of the shelf was discernible even in the gloom. Thinking a genius would probably be smart and put a flashlight where it would be easily found in the dark, she put her hand on the middle shelf that was the easiest to reach, and lo and behold, immediately found a flashlight-shaped object.

"Found it!" she said. Donatello _must_ have been smart, because the flashlight wasn't battery-powered but had a little lever to power a dynamo that she quickly depressed a couple of times, and soon the flashlight flickered to life. 

\---

When the flashlight snapped on, a sudden burst of nostalgic amusement broke through the shroud of apprehension Raphael felt like he was wearing. He even managed a dry chuckle.

“He was always prepared for anything,” he said, turning his head away from the flashlight’s direct radiance. “But I shouldn’t give him too much credit - nine times outta ten, if the power went out in the lair? It was him, messin’ with some new tech he was puttin’ together. If ya knew he was in his lab, a power cut wasn’t even worth gettin’ outta your chair for.”

The beam cut through the dark and the dust, and despite how easily that anecdote slipped out he found himself avoiding the surfaces that it landed on. Shadow’s curiosity would make it roam to things he didn’t want to see.

“I think the generator’s somewhere over here,” he gestured, moving further into the room. “He was crafty with the power. Never wanted to be too much of a drain on the city grid in case it drew attention, so always had some kinda alternative. Most of the stuff your Ma knows about runnin’ a secret underground base, she learned from him.”

\--

"Wow," muttered Shadow as she let the circle of light roam through the lab. It wasn't enough light to really understand what all these machines were, and she wasn't quite tech-savvy to even do that if she could take a proper look -- but their sheer size and quantity were impressive regardless. And Donatello had built all this with nothing but salvaged (maybe stolen) equipment and no formal education! 

She tried to keep the light to where Raphael was going, so he wouldn't run into something and could see what he was doing, but at the same time as she slowly followed, she was fascinated by all the things her lost uncle had left behind. The entire lab seemed… more abandoned than cleaned out. Nothing seemed to be missing, in fact, everything was cluttered in a way a creative genius might have left it in his coffee break. She saw notes in unfamiliar handwriting on the desk, taped to monitors and old desktop towers. There was a chalkboard that still had equations written on it and, in one little corner, in a more familiar handwriting, a comment that said, "Don't forget to eat!"

"When Mom still taught us science when I was little she used to mention him whenever she taught us something he had found out," she said, eyes lingering on something that might have been a purple mask over the backrest of a halfway decayed desk chair. "I mean, our textbooks are mostly just copies from books before the war and loose additions since then, but he's in most of them."

She chuckled a little, humorless. "I'm not very good at the sciency stuff though," she admitted. "Take more after Dad, probably. Pretty good at breaking stuff, not so much at making things."

"Don't worry, Donatello was pretty good at breaking things," said Leo from the entrance of the lab. Shadow jumped, flicking the light over at him for a moment. Unsurprisingly, he didn't react to the light hitting his face. "He was mostly an incredible improviser. He could build a smoke bomb with floor wax and dirt. It was amazing to watch, and sometimes a bit unsettling." 

\---

Raphael already felt like Don’s ghost was going to pop out of the shadows at any second, so when Leo’s voice sprang out of nowhere, he flinched so hard his coffee made a bid for airborne freedom. Only his ninja reflexes kept it from making a further mess of the floor.

“For the love of - _why_ d'ya gotta creep around like that?” he growled, whirling to face his brother in the doorway. “And do _not_ say ‘ninja’. This _ain't_ a mission, geez.”

Hearing Leo talk about their missing sibling always made him queasy, even if he only had good things to say, and it all came down to one specific unresolvable disagreement between them:

When Leo spoke of Donatello, he was talking about the dead.

Raphael could never abide that. And Shadow’s reflections weren’t memories at all - just other people talking about Don, or references to his work, and it wasn’t _enough_ . No story Raph could tell could explain who Donatello was to a person who had never met him. She needed to _meet_ him, she should _know_ him. She should have loved him! She - she _would_ love him. When he came back. April still believed it, he knew, and if she talked about it less and less it was only because it was such a sore subject for him and his brothers. She believed it, and that was all that mattered, all he needed to hold on to . . . 

Sadness swelled behind his plastron. His eyes stung - both of them, even the goddamn empty socket prickling - and he swung as casually as he could back toward the generator’s direction. 

“Me and Shad have got this, Leo,” he said around the lump in his throat, with the blunt implication being ‘don’t let the door hit you on your way out’.

\--

"Can't help it," said Leo easily. "Not a mission, still ninja."

And then he just ignored Raph's not so subtle way of trying to get rid of him, and stepped further into the room. Shadow wanted to follow behind Raph to help him, but her eyes lingered on Leonardo who, one hand carefully outstretched to not accidentally bump into something, went to explore the room. 

He quickly found the desk, and carefully brushed his hands over the surface. Every time his fingertips tipped against something, he carefully lingered for a moment to feel without ever picking anything up as if he didn't want to disturb the space of these things. Every time he came across a piece of paper, he stopped, and Shadow could only imagine the depth of his emotions upon being deprived of these remnants of his lost baby brother.

Shadow quickly hopped after Raph to help him with the generator and lend him some light. "If we find a radio," she said, if only to fill the silence, "maybe we can try to find a frequency the Foot's sending at? I'm pretty good at deciphering their code. Maybe we can find something out?"

\---

His brother just couldn’t - or wouldn’t - take a hint, so Raphael tightened his jaw and tried to ignore him. Even though the faint rustling of him messing with Don’s old stuff set his teeth on edge. Just had to get the generator up and running and get out of the room ASAP. Maybe he was on a mission after all. 

Shadow wasn’t far behind him, and he gave her an encouraging nod and side smile as she piped up. “Yeah, pretty good idea, kid. I’d say it’s too risky to transmit right now but receivin’ is fine. Maybe the enemy’ll tell us what we need to know about the rest of our people. There’s bound to be somethin’ in here you can use - once we can see what we’re doin’, anyway.” 

Shadow’s light coalesced onto their target in short order, and Raph approached the large unit with a critical eye. Leonardo’s description of his brother as an improviser wasn’t wrong; like most of Donatello’s custom lair tech, it was a frankenstein hybrid smart enough to divert from the grid for big juice requirements, or switch between a more mundane fuel source and the solar panel array well camouflaged as roof tiles on one of the church’s parapets. He remembered how excited Donnie had been, coming up with that design. Solar panel camouflage was barely-emergent science, apparently, something about . . . photovoltaic cell layers or . . . something. Percentage efficiency retention and . . . well, Raph had praised him up for it instinctively. If Don was thrilled about something techy it was probably a Big Deal even if you couldn’t understand a word coming out of his mouth. 

He didn’t know how well the panels would have survived up there, though. Probably a night-time stealth job to go check ‘em out. Rust was creeping at the edges of the generator itself, but it didn’t look too terrible, on the whole. There was a gauge on the side that indicated the fuel level, and since there still seemed to be a chunk in there, he figured that was the safest bet for invisible power right now.

He set his half-empty mug of coffee down on the nearest flat surface and reached for the cord on the starter motor with his good hand, but a few strong pulls of it only resulted in a sputtered choking sound.

“Figured that’d be too easy,” he snorted. “That fuel’s been sittin’ there a while though. Better check the valves ain’t turned nasty. Can you see a toolbox anywhere? Pretty sure he kept one near the generator for just such an occasion.”

\--

There was metallic clatter coming from where Leonardo was, followed by a very untypical, "Ow, _goddamnit_."

When Shadow looked back, her uncle did the universal one-legged dance of someone who had stubbed their toe on a hard object. "Found it," he said morosely. "Of course he would stash it under the desk where it's always handy. Foolish of me to think I could just walk around."

"Nothing like a good physical reminder, huh," said Shadow, somewhat amused by the fact that Leonardo still possessed the ability to accidentally bump into stuff. He didn't do that very often; whether that was by skill or sheer luck, she had never found out. 

She stepped away from Raph and the generator to grab the toolbox Leo pushed toward her with his foot. She gave him a rub on the arm. "You should go sit down," she said. "It's bad enough you're up and walking around, but you did kata all morning. Don't strain yourself so much."

He sighed. "Is that an order?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yeah," she said. "I'll tell Mom otherwise."

He sighed. "Well, can't have that," he said. "Don't wanna have to endure April's wrath. Cal if you need me."

"Will do," said Shadow and watched him leave. 

\---

Hearing Leo curse like that was a shock to the system. It was the only reason Raphael managed to keep a lid on his reaction as Shadow fondly ordered his brother out of the room. He couldn’t watch him go, too busy fighting against the tremors trying to escape his chest - a battle he lost when Shadow set the toolbox down next to his kneeling form and he met her gaze. The smug, rasping chuckles burst out of him, shaking his shoulders, and totally unavoidable even if he knew they’d probably invite Shadow’s reproach. 

“Not quite as funny as that time he realised he’d stepped on a mine, but I’ll take it,” he grinned, wiping away an imaginary tear from the corner of his missing eye. 

\--

  
  


Hearing Raphael laugh -- and actually _laugh_ , enough to try and stifle it, not just one of his typical sardonic scoffs -- was definitely worth a small bit of Leo’s physical discomfort, Shadow thought. 

She had a feeling Leonardo might even agree. Not to Raphael’s face, of course -- they were long past that, even one brother breathing wrong was enough to set the other off. But Shadow, lucky that both her uncles loved her very much, got to see their other sides and knew neither of them was actually the monster the other tried to make him into. 

She wouldn’t have put it together herself, probably, but growing up and not understanding why her family started to fall apart after her dad’s death, both April and Mikey had tried to explain as much to her as possible, and Shadow had decided for herself that even if the adults stopped trying to fix what was left, she would _never_. 

Despite what Raphael said, Leonardo still had so much compassion and gentleness in him, and despite what Leo said, Raph still cared so deeply and wanted nothing more than to protect those he cared for. It was just that Raph thought his loved ones needed protection from _himself_ , and Leo thought gentleness was a weakness. 

Shadow knew neither of these things were true. Leonardo would still see the humor in him, master ninja and former clan leader, stubbing his toe like any other person. Raphael wasn’t a monster for thinking it was funny.

So Shadow chuckled and asked, “A _mine_ ? When did _that_ happen and _how_ have I not heard that story yet?” and settled down on the cold concrete floor next to Raphael, ready to hand him the tools he needed and maybe treat herself to a sip of luke-warm coffee from his cup when he wasn’t looking. 

\---

Well, he got off lighter for that than he’d expected. Raph snickered again as he reached for the most accessible flat-head screwdriver in the toolbox. “I ain’t surprised you never heard that one,” he said. “He likes to pretend it never happened, even if we’re goin’ back to the old sewer days, here.”

He worked as he talked, glad to have something to take his mind off the fact that Donatello’s inventive hands had been the last ones to touch the tools he was using now. “This is back when our old buddy Leatherhead was havin’ a hard time and stayin’ at the lair with us. He went out by himself one time ‘cause of, uh . . . well, that part don’t really matter. But when we went to look for him we came across some professional nutjob huntin’ him through the sewers. Or I should say, we came across the arsenal of traps he’d laid out for him.”

Raph sniffed, briefly diverted by the stubborn panel in front of him. He held out his hand to Shadow. “Pass me that big flathead over there? I reckon this needs a little _persuasion_.”

\--

"Ooh, 'persuasion,'" Shadow snickered, smacking the flathead into Raph's palm. "That's what we're calling it, huh?"

It was great to see him like this. Talking, working, without being jumpy or defensive or anything. After the last two days, it was a welcome reprieve. What a hot meal and some sleep and an aloof big brother running into things could achieve!

She could only hope it'll last just a little longer. It was unlikely, what with Leonardo being close and all three of them essentially confined together in a tight space like this…

But hey, some ten or twelve hours together and they had only screamed at each other like, _twice_ , right? That was pretty good!

Shadow was confident she could keep them… either getting along just enough, or just try to always keep one of them busy conveniently in a room that the other one wasn't in at the same time. 

"Show 'em who's boss, Raphie," she said, fondly leaning over to him to bump her shoulder against his. 

\---

From anyone else (who was still here to say it, at least), Raph’s dreaded nickname would elicit irritation at best. It was too soft, too ‘cute’, and it had no place in the dark world they lived in. Shadow always got a free pass, though. From her, it gave him a flush of warmth right down to his core. He smiled at her, clearing his throat a little. She really was an incredible kid.

“So . . .” he grunted, giving the wedged screwdriver some determined leverage. “I think we came across a bunch of laser traps first, or something? . . . Honestly, I forget exactly, the number of stupid, crazy situations we’ve ended up in where we were gettin’ shot at. The point is, we had every reason to be on the alert for _more_ traps. And I spotted the landmines in the tunnel at the same time as we all heard the click of Leo’s big foot steppin’ on one.” 

The panel popped off about the same time he let out another wheeze of laughter. His amusement sounded like the low, rolling rumble of thunder.

“Ya should’a seen his _face_ , Shad. I mean, one wrong move and he’d’ve been a turtle barbecue but oh, man, I’ll never forget it.”

\--

  
  


Shadow listened attentively and laughed with him. “It makes for a great story, at least,” she said. “And you guys are always full of those. I love all of them so much.”

It was a dangerous thing to say, but it slipped out before she could stop it. At least she managed to bite down on all the other wistful things she felt whenever Raph talked about the past like this, scarce as it was. And maybe she had already milked it for too long, but she was greedy and selfish and wanted to see more of her uncles being happy and carefree -- or whatever passed for that in their wild, unusual lifes.

Feeling a bit awkward, she got to her feet, brushing herself off and settled the flashlight in a way it was stable to let Raph see, and started to wander the sides of the lab. A lot of machinery was covered under tarps and cloth, and she curiously lifted some edges to peek underneath. She was somewhat tech-savvy (her mother had made sure of that) and knew her way around the basic stuff, but most of what she was looking at, she didn’t recognize. The lack of electricity didn’t help. Neither would her uncles probably, though hopefully her mother would be able to explain a few things. Sure, this stuff was about as old as herself, and Leonardo had already said they didn’t really know what to do with it, but it was a shame to let it go to waste like this, right? At least they could disassemble some of it for parts--

“Whoa,” said Shadow, having wandered into the far corner in the lab where the biggest structure was hidden underneath a dark sheet. She had half expected a collection of old servers or something, guessing from its massive size, but it looked more like… a container? It even had a door. For some reason, it was slightly ajar, and without thinking, Shadow pushed it closed. It shut tight with a soft, satisfying click that told her the hinges were very well engineered. “What the hell is this?”

\---

Raph was too busy wrestling one-handed with the greasy connector on a fuel pipe to really register the awkwardness in Shadow’s departure. Casey had always been a fidget when they were doing anything, too, so it didn’t strike him as too odd. The man could never sit still if he wasn’t the one with the tools in his hands and an engine in front of his face.

He knew he owed her more stories, though, and he resented being too much of a coward to relay them to her. Her soft footfalls in the quiet lab remained at the periphery of his attention, and he glanced toward her as she marvelled at something she’d found. He only saw the sheet covering the big thing, and her lean figure peeking beneath it.

“No good askin’ me, kid,” Raph shrugged, scratching his beak with his sleeve to avoid smearing himself in grease. “Only time I ever understood Donnie tech was if you could ride it. Or detonate it, heh. On purpose, I mean. Bombs, engines, a nice set of wheels? I can do those.” His gaze lingered a second longer, then he turned back to the generator. “Might steal that sheet afterwards though. Fix me up a nice hammock somewhere nice and private before the others get here.”

\--

"Ha! Not only are there sheets enough for a hammock, but you could even canopy it if you wanted, and even after that you'd still have enough for blankets."

Shadow bent down to grab the corners of the sheet that covered the mystery machine and gave them a hefty tug to pull them off, gathering the fabric in both arms when it came loose. A massive plume of dust came loose as well, and she coughed and sputtered and hopped a step backwards, bumping into more covered up machinery. 

"Ugh," she complained, waving her hand in front of her face in an attempt to dispel the dust. "I know nobody has been here for fifteen years or whatever, but geez."

She gave the now uncovered machine a last cursory glance. Something about it seemed… odd. She couldn't quite place it, and she didn't know enough about either machines or Donatello to really say what it was. But something about the state it was in stuck out, unfinished and abandoned in a way that seemed different than the rest of the lab. 

Thinking that this was maybe how Raphael felt about all of the lair, she turned away again to go and check back on his progress with the generator. 

\---

As Shadow pulled the sheet away she was enveloped in a cloud of dust. Raphael snorted his amusement - until, whether through sympathy or how far the damn stuff carried, he felt the telltale tickle in his nostrils. Ninja or no, his sneezes were about as subtle as his snoring; he slammed his palm over his snout just in time to catch the explosive bark, and smeared machine gunk all over his face in the process.

“Augh, damn it,” he growled. “Good thing I’m just about done here.”

He lightly hammered the panel back in with the butt of the screwdriver just as Shadow returned to his side, and pulled himself upright. A few pulls of the cord this time had the starter motor purring. Raph made a satisfied noise and patted it for good behaviour before turning to his niece.

“You want the honours?” he asked. “Just hit that big power button there on the main panel, and this place should be back in business.”

\--

When Raph sneezed and smeared his face in the vain attempt to muffle the noise, Shadow laughed at him. The vaguely three-fingered smudge he left behind really enhanced the post-apocalyptic bad guy/gear head image he had going on, and she would have maybe said so, but before she could, Leo's voice echoed down the hallways.

"Gesundheit," he called. "Nearly had a heart attack."

Shadow laughed some more, because even muffled, Raph's sneezes were a bit of an explosion and she couldn't blame Leo for being startled. "Sorry," she called back as she skipped toward the panel Raph had pointed her to. "I unleashed the beast, my bad."

And then she hit the button, and with an electric hum and a bit of a stutter, the lights finally came on. Shadow whooped. "And there was light!"

\---

How the hell had Leo heard that? Raphael always thought his family exaggerated about his sneezes (especially Mikey, who liked to announce that Godzilla had arrived whenever he was in earshot of one), but maybe he needed to reevaluate. 

That train of thought distracted him enough that he wasn’t prepared for Shadow’s triumphant slam of the power button, or the subsequent flood of light into the old, abandoned lab. He flinched, shielding his eye with one hand until his vision adjusted.

There was nowhere for him to hide his gaze in the newly-illuminated room. A lot of the equipment was still covered in sheets, but the silhouettes were too familiar and the exposed surfaces were littered with memory traps. He tried to look away, but his eye settled on the damn coffee cup. There was still a third of the drink in there, stone cold by now. How often would he bring Don a hot drink only to find the previous one untouched, forgotten in the mania that was his brother’s focused genius?

“ . . . First shower’s yours, kid,” Raph said distantly. He wasn’t entirely sure if she answered him or not - his attention was caught next by a telltale flash of purple. A mask, draped over the back of a desk chair, and the sight of it stopped his breath in his chest.

Raphael drifted closer, his hand reaching out for it, but his palm was still slick with grease and dirt and he twitched the limb back to his plastron before it could make contact. Aside from a coating of dust, the mask looked pristine; he didn’t want to taint it.

“Where did you go, bro?” The mournful words escaped him before he could rein them back in, barely audible sounds half-buried in a rough exhalation. 

\--

  
  


Shadow was out of the room before she could witness her uncle’s renewed nostalgia. The invitation to finally have the shower and the surge of happiness over the working electricity had her hop out of the forgotten laboratory and back into the main room. She found Leonardo obediently sitting and resting his leg, only lifting his head a little when she approached.

“I’m guessing the electric hum I hear means you were successful?” he asked, tracking her movement as she threw the armfuls of sheets towards Raphael’s designated cot and then started to peel out of her outer layers, shoes and jacket and such, by her own.

“Yep,” she said. “And I got dibs on the first shower.”

“Of course you do,” he said mildly. “I wouldn’t dare come between the young lady and her beauty regimen.”

“Oh, ha, ha, Leo,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him despite him not seeing it. His small smile told her he had an idea, anyway. “What’s with you crusty old dudes and razzing me for wanting to be freshly showered after _way_ too long?”

“Four boys growing up in the sewers?” Leo said. “Pretty sure none of us took a bath ever before meeting your mother.”

“Oh, eww,” Shadow laughed, and flung one of her shoes at him. He caught it in mid-air with a mild chuckle. 

“Seriously though,” she said, as she was undressed to nothing but her pants and her undershirt. “Are you two gonna be okay on your own for half an hour? I really don’t wanna jump outta the shower naked to stop you from killing each other.”

“Neither me nor Raphael want to cut your well-deserved me-time short, Shadow,” Leonardo said, turning his head away. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

Shadow couldn’t help but laugh. “Good one.”

“I’m serious,” said Leonardo softly, still staring to the side like he was uncomfortable facing her, even blind. “I reckon Raphael will make himself scarce, and if those sheets are for a hammock, he’ll probably busy himself with that. And knowing him, he’ll feel better after doing that and having a shower himself.”

“I mean that’s fine,” said Shadow, wringing her hands a little. “But what about you?”

“If there’s some hot water left after you two are done, I’ll shower then,” Leonardo said, even though they both knew that wasn’t what Shadow had asked at all.

But she let it rest, and heaved her shoulders in a sigh. “Okay,” she said, giving up. Nothing left but to trust and hope.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little safehouse is about to get a lot more crowded . . .
> 
> Fowo as Shadow, Leo and Mikey.  
> Hamster as Raph and April.

Raphael managed to stand being in the empty lab for another few minutes, forcing himself to at least check the security panel. Toggles were labelled in Don’s handwriting, a number of them begging to be switched on including ‘internal cameras’ and ‘external cameras’, but for now he only flipped the one labelled ‘perimeter alert’ so that the little green LED blinked on. Any more and he’d have to stick around to check the camera feeds and whatever else, and that wasn’t happening. Not right now. 

So he grabbed the sheet Shadow had bundled up for him and got out of there, Don’s absence breathing down the back of his neck all the way to the threshold. He didn’t stop to talk to Leo, but his brother probably wasn’t surprised about that. Or bothered, let’s face it.

They’d had their own small rooms in this lair, but those had long been emptied of anything of value. He felt no particular attachment to them. Raph headed instead for a storage room he remembered, out of the way of any of the main tunnels. It was a bit of a mess, but between some of the chunky pipes and tall, heavy storage units he managed to rig himself a decent makeshift hammock at the end of the room. If a deluge of rebels turned up, he’d be able to grab himself some quiet here. Not like anyone _liked_ his snoring, anyway. 

Carving out a little peace for himself smoothed down some of the nerves frayed by his time in the lab. He was still pretty grimy, though, so when he returned to the main living area and heard Shadow humming something from the kitchen, he figured it was his turn for the shower. 

Raph left his coat and his mask on the wall hook for just such a purpose and gingerly experimented to see how much hot water Shadow had left him. But there was plenty, so he let it hammer down violently on his scales and his shell. It was a little awkward, keeping his bandaged arm out of the running water, but he still could have lost himself for hours in the hot cascade. They didn’t have unlimited power, though; he still needed to check those damn solar panels. And get the security cameras going. Wasn’t like his blind brother was going to do it for him.

Sigh.

With reluctance, Raph turned off the water flow and stubbornly took his time towelling himself off.

\--

Raphael made himself scarce over the day, and Shadow saw little of Leo as well. It was hardly surprising, and considering how well behaved both of them had been so far (considering, anyway), she figured both of them were pretty fed up with being nice around each other.

Raphael had skulked around for a while and then finally mumbled something about the solar panels on top of the church and packed a toolbox. Unsurprisingly, Leo had reminded Raphael that it was still day outside, and Raph had some choice words about that, which Leonardo of course didn't appreciate. It hadn't been a shouting match like Shadow would have expected, but the two of them leaving the room in opposite directions had left her uneasy, awkward and lost.

Raphael would probably feel better after having something practical to do. Leo vanished into the tunnels and Shadow wasn't sure where he went. What did a blind guy do all day, all on his own? 

It was too depressing to think about, honestly. Shadow tried to keep herself busy. She went to explore the safehouse. Besides the old kitchen being stocked to the ceiling with astronaut food, another room held a lot of military supplies. After a bit of rummaging, Shadow found what she needed to disassemble and clean her rifle. If nobody else should show up here in the coming days, she figured she would have enough ammunition for a few bad decisions as well.

But there was something very meditative about sitting cross-legged on the floor, her tools spread out around her, going through the old and familiar motions of caring for her weapon, hands slick with grease. Shadow knew that her mom sometimes got that _look_ to her when she saw her daughter doing it, and Shadow didn't know if it was because no mother wanted her daughter to have routine in caring for a weapon, or because it reminded her of her dead husband. Or, worse maybe, Raphael.

"God," Shadow complained at the ceiling, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. "What is it with this place and making people depressed? No wonder they hate being here."

She cleaned up after herself and, with nothing better to do, wandered around the abandoned tunnels some more. 

It was all very nondescript, but here and there were still signs that this had been a makeshift home for her uncles sometime in the past. It wasn't much -- a faded graffiti on a wall, an empty weapons rack in what had clearly been a dojo once, how everything was made for someone not as tall as a grown human -- but it was enough. But all personal belongings were long cleaned out. The only thing that still looked like it might have some fifteen, seventeen year ago was Donatello's lab.

It was weird, standing on the threshold. She hadn't minded so much with her uncles by her side, but now, being alone, she felt like she was intruding on someone else's privacy. Someone she had never met, or… at least didn't remember. 

She had heard so many stories of her uncle Donatello, told to her by her parents, Mikey, even Raph and Leo sometimes. All of them told her a different story in their own way, but they all agreed that he had been brilliant and that they missed him a lot. 

Shadow sighed, idly looking over the notes on the long abandoned desk, the formulas on the blackboard. They meant nothing to her -- not just their content, but also the handwriting they were in. It was so weird, how people you cared so much about could miss someone so much that you didn't miss yourself. 

Movement in the corner of her eye made her turn, her gaze falling to the small monitors that displayed the security camera feeds from outside. There were… there were people there.

There were people outside the safehouse.

A sharp spike of fear flooded Shadow's system, making her dart forward to the monitor to get a better look. And once she did, she saw…

"Mom!" she yelled, and pushed herself off the desk to sprint down the halls. "Leo! It's Mom! She's here, they're here; they made it!"

"What?" Leo was somehow already in the main room, and Shadow had no time to be annoyed at him being a master ninja again, she just kept running until she reached the door, but Leo intercepted her and grabbed her by the arms.

"Hold on," he said urgently. "It could be a trap."

"I saw her, Leo!" Shadow said, trying to free herself from his grasp. "On the cams in the lab! It's her! Uncle Mike is here, too!"

"Mikey…?" asked Leo, his grip around her arms slackening.

"They all made it!" said Shadow urgently. "And Raph is outside; if this was a trap, he would've let us know. I'm sure Uncle Mikey just forgot where the switch is, you know how he is--"

And that seemed to do the trick. Leo nodded once, curtly, and let her go. But he didn't let her open the door; he turned himself, punching in a security code, and Shadow hopped impatiently from one foot to the other, waiting as the heavy steel doors finally opened. 

\---

She was up front, in the lead. These days April was always leading. Sometimes the fatigue of it felt like bonerot, deep and aching and wearing her down invisibly day by day, no matter how resilient she seemed on the outside.

But every time she thought the rot had burned too deep, that everything holding her upright had just about decayed to mulch and would pitch her permanently down into the dirt, along would come another tiny miracle and grant her one more day. Funny thing about miracles - you had to appreciate them in context. And as the context of the world had twisted and darkened and narrowed, April’s definition of 'miracle' had adjusted to suit; you had to actively look for them now, cherish the smallest blessings - like a good hot meal, or a mission with no casualties, or four straight hours of uninterrupted sleep, or the glimpse of a smile on a loved one's face.

This miracle, though? This was huge, blatant and standing right in front of her when those steel doors opened. April made a wet noise of pure relief and charged inside to envelop her daughter in a fierce embrace, heedless of the grime that coated her from the long, arduous journey and the fine explosion debris still littering her silvering hair.

“Oh, you’re safe! Thank god, you’re really safe.”

"Told ya she was okay," came Raph's voice from the back of the crowd of rebels behind her, out of immediate sight. He was bringing up the rear, and sounded vaguely offended that she hadn't believed him.

"Your ‘okay’ is pretty different to my ‘okay’, Raphael. Besides, a mother has to see these things for herself," the rebel leader said, in a tone that nobody would dare argue with. As if to prove it, she pulled back slightly, keeping a firm grip on her daughter but looking her over keenly for any evidence to the contrary of Raph's claims.

\--

Shadow laughed and sobbed through her relief when she finally held her mother in her arms again. When April pulled back a little to give her a visual once-over, Shadow sniffed and smiled wetly, not really willing to go.

"Absolutely okay even by raised human standards," she said, wiping tears from her cheek with her shoulder because her hands were still occupied with holding on to her mother. "Even had a shower."

Behind her mother, she could see the rest of the rebels her mother had lead here flooding in, shepherded by Raphael and--

"Uncle Mike!" Shadow called, a fresh round of tears bursting out of her even as she refused to let her mother go.

"Baby Shadow!" Mikey called back. His eyes visibly lit up as he finally hopped over to them, throwing his one arm around Shadow and her mother. "Oh, you're all right; I was _so_ worried. And instead you're here, camping in our old digs and having hot showers?" He ruffled her hair and pulled her (and by extension, her mother) closer against his plastron to place a kiss on top of her head.

Shadow; taller than him, chuckled and ducked her head a little to accommodate him. "Courtesy of Raph gently persuading the generator," she said, and Mikey inclined his head a little to give Raphael a look, but he didn't say anything, just smiled at Shadow a little and gave her another squeeze.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Shad," he said again.

\---

“So that’s why you look extra beautiful today,” April laughed, on a mission to be the post-apocalypse’s most embarrassing mom. It wasn’t a lie, though; her daughter looked about as good as anyone in the resistance could under the circumstances, clean and unhurt and relatively well-rested. The sight of her was like having a stack of barbells lifted off her shoulders all at once. April brushed a hand through the dark hair falling around Shadow’s face, eyes glistening as she beamed her relief.

Of course, Mikey wasted no time getting involved in the now-group hug, and April wouldn’t have had it any other way. It made her painfully aware of two things, though.

Firstly, the milling rebels behind her. Some were quietly celebrating reaching their destination, but most still looked bewildered and pensive as they waited for whatever came next. After the past few days, April wanted nothing more than to sit down with her family for a few hours and draw comfort from their survival . . . but that was a luxury she couldn’t afford. The rebels needed her. She’d have to break up this reunion soon and get to work settling them in.

Secondly, the _other_ two turtles, hovering ever on the boundary of Shadow, Mike and April’s little circle, but always afraid to cross the boundary. Raph still stood awkwardly by the door, a toolbox dangling in his good hand. He’d already been given a brisk hug in the tunnels, the leather of his coat creaking beneath her grip and one very tentative, three-fingered hand touching her back.

His blind brother hadn’t made a peep since they’d barged into the safehouse. April was unwilling to completely let go of Shadow just yet, so she compromised on reaching out one hand for him and giving his arm a fond squeeze. She doubted she’d be able to pull him into their group hug, but she couldn’t leave him out. 

“I’m so glad you made it, Leo. We lost track of you back there. One minute you were there and the next . . . I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

\--

Leo was able to take April's hand as if he could see her. And though he would be never fully able to explain it to anyone else, he truly kind of did: April's aura was overwhelming. She had always been like this, from the first time he had been able to detect someone's spiritual presence as a teenager, to when he was forced to let go of his memories of visuals and depend solely on the guidance of a spiritual plane. Now she was a shining bright star in the muddled sea of senses that he had left. That he hadn't sensed her (and his little brother, and about, what, twenty, thirty people?) approach the hideout told him he truly wasn't at his best.

"Yes," he told her softly, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles. "By turtle-standards, anyway. Do not blame yourself; I made several detours and may not have entirely heeded your evacuation plans."

"We're not here a minute and already I have to hear words like 'evacuation plans,' sheesh," said Mikey, letting go of April and Shadow but only to pinch Shadow in the cheek. "You two do your thing, but these people are tired and hungry."

He turned away and raised his hand. "Alright everyone, we made it. Welcome to my crib, everyone can grab one of the cots there and there and set up camp. Get comfortable."

"Oh," said Shadow. "Hey Sophie, let me show you the infirmary. We have all sorts of supplies here!"

"If I remember where the kitchen is, I'm gonna see to it that we get some grub in these empty stomachs," said Mikey. As he passed Leo, he bumped shoulders with him. "Glad you're alright, bro," he said. 

"Likewise," said Leonardo softly, and withdrew his hand from April's. 

\---

With the reunion decidedly over, April blinked any remnants of moisture from her eyes and slapped her game face back on. Exhausted though she was, it was easier now, knowing her nearest and dearest were safe. Mikey, playing benevolent host, had got everyone moving - she just needed to give some additional direction.

“You heard the turtle,” she rallied her troops. “Let’s get wounded on cots in this corner and a clinic going. Eva, you’re on triage. Everyone else, drop your butts wherever, but don't obstruct tunnels or doorways, please!"

April felt Raph's heavy presence settle in just behind her, and when everyone looked too busy to be eavesdropping, she finally turned to him.

“Twenty-four, includin' you and Mike,” he said immediately. “That right?”

“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “Means we didn’t lose anyone on the way here.” No inadvertent stragglers … and nobody had tried to make a break for it before they got locked inside. That had been half the reason for having Raph on rearguard duty in those dark basement tunnels.

But she still couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone was here who shouldn’t be. The base hadn’t compromised itself, after all. 

They were close enough to Leo for her to draw him into the conversation. Somehow he and Raph hadn’t ignited on contact, which she chose to interpret as another little miracle. “Don’t share that door code,” she said to both of them, quiet but firm. “I don’t want anyone leaving without my permission. How’s the rest of the security looking?”

“Half the cameras seem like they’re doin’ okay." Raph shrugged, somehow without rattling the toolbox. "Some of ‘em are dead or glitchy though - need to do a sweep. Hadn’t got to that yet. Needed to prioritise the power.” 

"And how's that looking? Do _all_ of us get a hot shower?"

Raph smirked. "Maybe, if you take it in turns. The solar panels were grimy but I cleaned 'em up best I could. A couple were cracked though. Dunno what that means for us."

"There'll probably be diagnostics on that in the lab, but you'll need someone trustworthy to help you with the cameras, too." April turned, looking for that telltale flash of orange. "Mikey! Take Ahmed and Dani with you. Once they're set up in the kitchen, can you head to Raph in the lab?"

Raphael snorted in bemusement. "Really?"

"Really." She touched a hand to each brother’s, her expression steely and her voice dropping to a murmur. "Let's keep the lab and security stuff to our inner circle for now, huh?"

\--

Leo was silent while April did her thing. She was good at what she did, probably much better than he could ever hope to be. He was fine with it, really -- he had long given up on any aspirations. 

What hurt him was seeing Mikey amidst the two dozen rebels or so; delegating tasks and enforcing April's orders, all with a firmness that he had only forced himself to learn in the last few decades while still having some of that charm that was natural to him. 

Mikey had never been leader material. Had never wanted to be. He was perfectly fine with being never more than a cog on a well-oiled machine -- but never less, either. Seeing him rise to the occasion, being a more than capable second-in-command to his rebel leader, reminded Leo painfully of his own shortcomings. Mikey had never wanted this responsibility, had never chosen it, but accepted it without complaint because he knew it was necessary. If he wasn't born with a natural gift for leadership, then now he would have to learn. 

Having stepped down as leader of the clan, and the family, Leo knew it wasn't his place anymore to get involved. Instead, it should be Raphael, but his brother chose not to. All these years of fighting for Leo's position, only to shy away from it when being actually offered. 

Leo felt the sour emotions like acid in his stomach and closed his eyes for a moment, just from a habit he couldn't quite shake. It helped some, anyway. 

Hoping some activity would help against the bad thoughts, he turned his head to April and asked, "What would you have me do?" 

Before April could answer, Mikey scoffed. "With that leg?" he asked, brusquely brushing away the flaps of Leo's coat. "Maybe sit _down_ for once."

Leo shied away from the unwanted contact and invasion in his personal space, and Mikey let him withdraw. 

"Sit down and check like, everyone's intentions or whatever," he said. "See who's all evil and stuff. Black aura and such. That'll go a long way in helping us."

"That's not how that works, Mikey," said Leo with some irritation to his voice. Whether Mikey's comment came from a place of misplaced humor or ableism, him simplifying things was really not helping. 

"Worth a shot," said Mikey with a shrug, and made no attempt to apologize or even acknowledge Leo's discomfort. "Raph, I'll be with you in a sec, gotta make sure Dani and Ahmed don't mess up."

\---

April expected Raph to have some kind of snide remark for Mike’s parting comment, but he just made a noise in the back of this throat that was difficult to interpret, and watched his little brother flounce off towards the kitchen with an expression that was just as impenetrable.

“Got a little crowded in here anyway,” Raph shrugged, trudging off toward the lab without another word. A close call was one of few things that could soften his roughest edges, and even then it rarely lasted for long before the barbs came out again. She’d have to check privately with Shadow on how much grief her two surly uncles had given her. April tolerated a _lot_ from her struggling family, but stressing out her daughter wasn’t one of them.

“Mike’s not totally wrong, Leo,” April said to the turtle left behind. She felt for him; his injuries and his disability were probably making him feel like dead weight under the circumstances. “You should rest up . . . and you _are_ good at reading people. Your intuition never fails.” She frowned wistfully. “Only our ability to heed it. You warned me this was coming and I still wasn’t prepared. I should have listened to you.” 

\--

Leo inclined his head toward her; not smiling, but a little softer than before. "You did listen," he told her. "It just wasn't feasible. Under the circumstances, I would have done the same." He reached out, found her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "We got unlucky. Not surprising, seeing you had all remaining ninja turtles within a few feet of each other. The turtle luck stacks up."

He moved his thumb a little to touch her cheek. "May I…?" he asked, softly. "Just to make sure you're okay. By human standards."

\---

“Hey, you know how I feel about turtle luck,” April chuckled. “For all we know, having a turtle-times-three was the only reason we made it out of there alive.” Despite the consequences, she couldn’t find it in herself to be too self-recriminating. Leo had known some _thing_ bad was coming, but not what. You couldn’t plan for a shapeless threat, and kicking herself over it wouldn’t help anyone.

His hand touched her cheek, featherlight, and April cupped her own over his, knowing he’d feel the crinkle of her smile. “Leo, you know you of all people don’t need to ask. But I promise I’m okay, by any standard. Just . . . tired.”

\--

He sighed a little when she leaned into his touch, and his fingertips brushed over her skin to feel her features; the creases by her mouth, around her eyes. Her cheeks were a bit hollower than they had been a few years ago, and he could even sense the change of her hair when he carefully let the strands flow through his fingers. Mikey had told him she had gotten gray early, as natural redheads were wont to do, but he had never seen it. In his mind, though he knew she was older now, she was still as she had always been -- maybe that was because she never lost her fiery passion and determination. There was something _red_ about those traits, wasn't there. 

"Hmm," he mused as he brushed his thumb over the soft place between her eyebrows. "I think these are new."

\---

While Leo’s fingers explored the increasingly rough contours of her face, April studied his with that one sense denied to him. The intensity of concentration in his features when he did this never failed to fascinate her. What was it really like in that head of his?

His bold observation took her a little by surprise. 

“Hm, well, Mike says it’s because I worry too much,” she laughed. “To which I would counter, between the three of you, are you really surprised?”

\--

His hands sank from her face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I never wanted this, any of it -- it's just, I…"

But he stopped himself, face turned away. Whatever it was he wanted to say, he didn't. Instead, he took a step back. By now, most of the rebels had settled into the cots by the walls, some looking after their wounded, some already asleep, some holding soft conversations. Nobody he could sense had an "evil aura" or whatever Mikey had called it, but in the end, his little brother had been right: Getting a read on people was the best he could do right now. If April still trusted his intuition, that was worth something, and he didn't want to let her down. 

"I don't wanna keep you," he said by way of explanation. "Your people need you. I better… go sit down and take it easy, and not get in the way." He gave her a nod and then left to find his cot. 

\---

And that was all it took. One soft, familiar joke taken the wrong way and Leo withdrew into himself, pulling away from her. April didn’t even curse herself anymore when it happened - there were only so many conversational landmines you could step on before you realised the problem wasn’t with your _feet_ , but the fact that you were stuck in a _field_ full of damn _landmines_.

Her people did need her, and she needed sleep, and the continuous effort of trying to wrangle family members out of their self-made misery pits seemed yet another step beyond her ever-stretched limits. But she simply couldn’t bear the dejection in Leonardo’s retreating figure; it still cut deeply into her empathy, no matter how many times she’d watched him walk away from her. 

She put a foot forward, reaching out to snag his sleeve before he could get too far away.

“Leo, listen,” she insisted quietly. “We’re vulnerable right now, but I know and trust that you’ll have our backs. You may think you’re no good for that anymore, but you’d be wrong. So . . .” April gently released him. “Rest. Because we need you, okay?”

It was clear from her tone of voice that ‘we’ did not mean the resistance, or whatever was left of it. This ‘we’ was strictly reserved for family matters. 

\--

He righted his coat a little, uncomfortably, as if April’s more than gentle tug might have rumpled it. “Of course,” he said, but he couldn’t even turn around fully to face her. He lingered a little, however, as if he wanted to say something else, but then just nodded once and continued to retreat, leaving her.


End file.
